Sunday, March 28, 2010

Almost Easter!

Blind culture is an oral culture. Object lessons can be appreciated by all. With these things in mind, I collaborated with my friend to come up with an especially tactile version of "Resurrection eggs" for next Saturday's Blind Mission luncheon.

I had a great time putting these objects into the plastic eggs, and I'd love to get some audience participation here. Are there one or two items in the photo that are significant to your understanding of the Easter story? Please leave a comment and tell the world! Oh, and because I'm partial to the abstract-random learning style, there are multiple possible explanations for each item. There are [almost] no wrong answers!

In case it's hard to see them, here's a list of the things in this egg:

round stone
strip of fabric

Thanks for telling a piece of His story! Oh, and feel free to check out John 19 for a little identification help.

Friday, March 19, 2010

All Is Well

We were sound asleep tonight. All of us, especially Rufus. The house was completely still. Someone even remembered to turn off the last light.

Then the phone rang.

The phone, in the deep dark of sleep.

I've heard that ring before. It was later, darker, and that time really ominous.

This time, it was a son's friend. No, that son is asleep. In his own bed. Right upstairs.

Isn't he?

Mom had to go check, even after the call had ended. Yes, that boy is most definitely asleep, right there in his own bed.

Thank You, Lord. Thank You. Not this time.

The other time, it was a call of warning. "We're bringing him home. He needs you. He needs a doctor."

Thank You, Lord. Not this time.

It's been two hours. Maybe I'll get back to sleep soon. Thank You, Lord. All is well.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Ups and Downs of Anosmia

I've been smelling for about a week.

(I'll wait while you think of all the one-liners this statement attracts.)

Several years ago, I noticed that I was detecting phantom odors. Sometimes wood smoke, usually chemicals or vinyl. Nothing was ever really there -- no one else smelled these things. It was all in my head, so to speak.

Then I got a sinus infection. A killer sinus infection. When I finally recovered from it, I couldn't smell anything. Not a bar of soap shoved up my nostrils, not a clove of garlic, not my stinky dog, nothing.

I remember crying in the shower one morning, sobbing over my inability to smell shampoo. I kept trying to smell, and I prayed hard that this sense would be returned to me. Nothing happened. I was crushed. Even though it was only my nose that didn't work, scent is perhaps the most memory-evoking sensory experience. No more fresh Crayolas. No more onions and pot roast in the slow cooker. No more babies' sweet scalps.

Over the weeks and months and then years, I adjusted to not being able to smell. When we got a puppy, I didn't have to be the one to track down the location of his accidents. Driving past the dairy farm, it doesn't matter to me if the windows are open. Unwashed, halitosis-laden library patrons get unbiased treatment from me.

But for the past week or so, at random times, I've smelled a sweet detergent odor. I think it's like the windshield-washer in my car. (Have you ever sprayed your windshield and had the scent come through the vent?) It's pleasant. It's nice to be smelling something once in a while. It brings back some of the longing I used to feel, to be able to smell everything again.

But it's all in my head.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

International Roadside Attraction: This Blog!

There's a stat counter attached to my blog. It's fun to see that people have checked it out, and occasionally I recognize a friend's visit. Lately, though, a lot of folks have passed through as they zip along the information highway of the blogosphere. I've often had ten or twelve visitors a day from all over the world, but usually they don't stay long enough to browse these posts. It looks like they're hitting the "next blog" button at the top of the page -- something I've done, too, just to see what's out there.

In my random visits, I've found a few Blogger blogs that I wanted to keep reading. Here they are, in no particular order:

Cake Wrecks -- fall-off-your chair hilarious, sometimes "adult" humor

Educated and Poor -- insightful, funny, real life, sometimes "adult" content

Settling in Gently -- honest insights on trying to fit in, in paradise

The World According to Gaber -- beautiful watercolor paintings, but only a few posts

Then there are a couple of other blogs I've found one way or another:

Add Humor and Faith... Mix Well -- warm, witty remembrances and photography

Planet of the Blind -- pithy, poetic, meaty musings on life and sometimes disabilities

There are many more blogs on my favorites tab, but these are the ones I most wanted to highlight for you, dear reader. Somehow, I don't feel drawn to read stuff that's very similar to my own. That's true of the books I choose, too. I'd love to have the clarity of thought or funny material that some of these other writers do, but I can only work with what I've got. That's okay.

When I see that folks from Sweden, Brazil, Spain, United Kingdom, Argentina, Indonesia, Russia, and India have wandered through the dog's blog, my imagination strays to those locales. I might pull up Google Maps and zoom in on a random spot on the map in one of those countries. It's all the better if I can find a street view. Just yesterday, I had a lovely drive through a French village. On a recent visit to London, I couldn't get my eyes off those wonderful cars. I've spent a little time in New York City, as well.

That's all quite entertaining for me, but this isn't doing much for my readership statistics. Oh. This blog started out as a class assignment, then morphed into something to share with friends and family. Every person who takes the time to read my ramblings is a valued guest, even if I'm only a minor attraction on the side of the superhighway of the ether. See you on the map!