Clash of generations by Susan Grimsdell

Mind blindness Two recent incidents left me puzzled and also upset.  First, walking past the Olympic Pool in Newmarket where the footpath is not wide, and made narrower by obstructions along the curb, leading my blind friend who had her cane out in front of her as a signal to other pedestrians.  We took up most of the width of the path.  Ahead of us, a young woman came to a sudden halt and started texting on her phone, in the middle of the path, impossible for us to pass her.  I… Read More

The other woman by Trevor Plumbly

The siren’s song Alexa is a ‘Smart Speaker’, an innocent looking cylinder about a foot tall and capable of making the fiddly bits of daily routine a breeze. We blindies are suckers for this sort of stuff; anything that does our fumbling round for us is always welcome. She allowed me to access books and music without the threat of a wrongly pressed button or incorrect spelling. But blindness breeds doubt, and a dependence on gadgets disturbs me. I’ve always had a distrust of devices that do my thinking for me, what… Read More

Toupee or not toupee by Trevor Plumbly

Taking a dim view I never took much notice of blind people. They were there, of course, but short of a flush of sympathy and a few guilt dollars, there wasn’t much else I could offer. Things became a lot clearer (excuse the pun) when my own sight failed. In some respects I’m lucky: whilst my particular problem is inoperable, it is taking time to inflict total blindness and, as a result, I’ve been able to adjust on a gradual basis. But yearly visits for specialist assessment always show a little more… Read More

Out of Sight by Trevor Plumbly

On the Other Side I must confess to having been fairly ambivalent about the plight of blind folk till I joined their ranks. Sure, they were around, but not really part of my world; like most, I was happy to give a few dollars of conscience money on appeal days just as I did with all the other causes that didn’t really affect me personally. My reaction to someone with a white cane was a sort of distant sympathy, along the lines of ‘Poor sod, but he/she seems to be getting about… Read More

Blind Man’s Bluff by Trevor Plumbly

Whatever they’re calling us these days, whether it’s the basic ‘blind’ or the posh ‘visually impaired’, there’s a few of us around and I’m the one in our house. I’m a ‘blindy’: not totally, just enough to be a little more dependent than I’d like. The popular concept is that blindies need constant monitoring and attention to keep them fed, watered and accident free. But a blind friend recently mentioned a report from the USA which indicated that partners of the disabled often quoted their own ongoing stress as the cause of… Read More