Fast forward – from puberty to menopause by Emily Smart

The irony of talking about puberty at the ripe old age of 48 has not been lost on me. Thank you Trevor for reminding me that within the next few years, everything that started at puberty will soon be all over. As I wave goodbye to the once fresh eggs produced by my ovaries, I’ll be saying hello to facial hair, varicose veins and possibly too much spittle around my mouth. Looking back, puberty wasn’t a big thing for me. A late developer, I was still happy in my vest at fifteen… Read More

A class act by Trevor Plumbly

In reduced circumstances I only met Aunt Phyllis a few times, but she was one of those characters who continue to tap you on the shoulder throughout life. I was never quite sure of her place in what could euphemistically be described as my ‘family’ circle. I never knew if she was an actual ‘aunt’ or some sort of straggler who became attached before my time. The main consensus (whispered, of course), was that she had ‘a past’. At the time I assumed everybody had one of those and it wasn’t until… Read More

Warriors and wimps by Trevor Plumbly

Somebody remarked that when you’re blind you are ‘one step away from the edge of the world’. It sounds a bit dramatic, but for those of us who faced sight loss somewhat late in life there’s a fair bit of truth in it. It’s not just tripping over the stuff that you swear somebody left in the way, there’s the mental hurdles: disbelief, adjustment and final acceptance are pretty tough to absorb, along with having to convert once instinctive actions into calculated steps. Coping is, of course, the key, and I reckon… Read More

An eating disorder by Trevor Plumbly

Food for thought An increase in mishaps involving stained clothing along with the newly proven fallacy that ‘I can manage!’ has forced me to accept that a change of diet will be needed if I want to continue to eat in public. It’s not the quality of the food or the presentation; it’s the mechanics of the thing. The stuff’s perfectly OK left on the plate, but when I try to eat it, it seems reluctant to accept its final destination, preferring instead my shirtfront, lap or the table-top. Being blind, I’m… Read More

In hospital again by Trevor Plumbly

Important disclaimer Any resemblance in the following comments to anyone living, dead, or en route in either direction, is purely a matter for their own estimation. Many are called… Yep I’m back! As a result of a nasty fall, various bits of me have decided to freeze up, requiring the attention of a neurologist. Thus here I am flat on my arse, being poked, pulled and prodded by Doc One, a brusquely efficient, but otherwise charming woman, who vaguely reminded me of an absent-minded Miss Jean Brodie. After whacking me a few… Read More