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TToT: Let Us Try This Again, Shall We? #WorldBookDay #FreedomToReadWeek #WorldWildlifeDay #10Thankful

Last week I meant to share one picture, of the flowers we brought my sister after giving birth to my new niece, but I somehow ended up posting only the flowers.

Nothing wrong with flowers, so that one becomes “the flower flower flower flower post”.

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I am still thankful for the big things, for eight pound baby girls, but will sprinkle in a few smaller items, if I can as well.

Ten Things of Thankful

I am thankful for new music.

Lorde – Green Light

I am thankful for Mya Lynne and for my violin.

😉

Haha. Get it?

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I’m thankful that I went for it and submitted the travel memoir piece I wrote in Mexico, about my evening with the mariachis, to
CBC Literary Prizes.

I spent all of February, editing madly, and I would say I am proud of what I sent in. Now for the long wait.

I’m thankful to have made contact this week and am now in communication, by email, with the man I met in Mexico. He is doing amazing things with his life.

Everyone Has A Disability

We both know a little something about living with a disability and I appreciate his perspective.

I’m thankful for the bond already forming between my nephew and niece.

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Now, anytime I go to visit them, he always starts by saying, “Auntie Kerry, do you see my baby sister?”

Now that’s the question of one proud big brother.

I am thankful I got to read the words of a talented family member. He wrote a kickass spoken word piece about his wife and surprised her with it for her birthday last weekend.

It’s amazing to me that someone can love another person like that.

I wish I could have heard it in person, but I read the words and his writing was so sweet and so creatively epic.

Proud and thankful to be related to those two.

I would share it, but I’m not sure they’d want me to. Let’s just say, the word “citadel” is used at one point. It’s a song about a strong and one-of-a-kind woman. That’s spot on.

Ed Sheeran – Eraser (Live)

This new live Ed Sheeran song is another example of music, but with spoken word, poetry thrown in the mix.

I’m thankful for winter weather, while it’s still winter.

We went from above seasonal and warm temperatures at the beginning of the week and we’re ending it back firmly in winter, but spring is only officially a few weeks away now. The end and a new beginning, as many think of the arrival of spring, is on its way.

I enjoy a chilled night, without a harsh wind preferably, and feeling the gentle sprinkling of snowflakes coming down around me in the air. I’m going to miss that crunching noise when I walk outside in the packed snow underfoot.

I wish everyone could see that winter is supposed to be cold, to have snow, and to not show such love for the climate change that has an effect on nature and wildlife, and not in a good way. We should think about them a little more and less about our temporary discomforts. I know it’s hard. I don’t like freezing either, in the moment. But I do care about species such as butterflies and bees who pollinate. Those guys need spring to come in its own time. We shouldn’t try to rush it just because we are sick and tired of winter.

In the comments for TToT this week I say where I am from and what I love about living here. I love the four seasons we in Canada are lucky to experience. I grumble and groan my share, when I am shivering or sweating, but I want the planet to maintain itself, for my nieces and nephews, for a long long time to come.

The cousin and his wife I listed above, as a thankful, they work with nature and the environment. They’ve seen signs that aren’t good signs. They worry because they see it up close. They’ve taught me a lot.

I am thankful for people like them, doing all they can, to teach about the natural world we often neglect.

I’m thankful for the feeling of holding a baby.

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She is such a contented baby too. As long as she’s not hungry, she’s happy to sleep a lot.

For me, I can feel disgusted with things happening in the world or whatever, but then I hold her and I feel the slight pressure of her in my arms and her breathing as she sleeps so still. It’s peaceful.

I then watch my nephew, all his energy, and how big he is. I am thankful for these children, at the separate ages that they are, and I know they grow so fast.

I am thankful for books and the freedom to read any book I want to.

Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss (read by Neil Gaiman)

I have shared stories read by Neil Gaiman here in the past. I enjoy his readings.

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss.

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Mapping as Metaphor: Part Two

“There are a hundred ways to tell the story of a single life.” – Also, check out the first part of this interview. Plenty of insights to be gained.

BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

Part two of Brevity assistant editor Alexis Paige’s consideration of place, grief, and the river as metaphor, talking with Angela Palm, author of Riverine: A Memoir From Anywhere But Here, winner of the Graywolf Press Nonfiction Prize. [Part One can be found here]:

zz-riverinePAIGE: There’s a powerful depiction of sexual assault in the book. The scene struck me most for its brevity and omissions, for what did and didn’t make the page. Can you talk about how you approached writing the scene and why? Can you describe your decisions about what to include and what not to include, and how you came to approach the moment tonally?

PALM: I didn’t want the narrative to become about that particular violence, but instead wanted the incident to appear in the book as one link in a chain of violence, wherein accumulation would be more powerful than individual acts. Because that was my…

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One Dot at a Time {VisionAware post}

Braille is the best!

Adventures in Low Vision

 Photo shows braille lettering on a white page. Welcome, 2017.  Resolution makers, breakers and those who don’t bother, we all face the sparkling promise of the year to come.  It’s invigorating to imagine shedding the dry skin of previous failures or poor choices and to begin with a smooth touch on new goals.

For me 2017 will be another year full of adventures–intentional and otherwise–as I live each day well with low vision. One of the fun challenges I’m doing is learning the braille alphabet. In celebration of World Braille Day as well as Louis Braille’s birthday, VisionAware published my piece, One Dot at a Time, on learning braille as a person with low vision.  Braille will continue to be something I value in 2017 as living well is all about choices and options.

How do you mark the new year? What resolutions or goals have you made for 2017? What do you think about braille?  What choices and options are you grateful for…

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A Variety of Various Positions, #LeonardCohen #TGIF #FTSF

This week, as is so often to be found in life, was full of both the expected and the unexpected. Change comes round, now and then, whether we want it to or not, whether we’re ready for it or we aren’t.

I expected that the US might bring round a change in things, from one political party to the other. I wasn’t all that surprised by their election results, to be sadly honest. As much as I hoped that the change would be for that country to elect their first female president, another white, rich male came out on top.

Anger is expected. It is felt by so many. So many people let anger cloud the fear underneath, at the heart of things. I admit, I have anger, especially after the events of a week as bad as this, but I am mostly afraid. I am afraid for our world.

The stories in the news this week, like for months, have been all about events in the US. I knew though that soon enough other stories would come along and shift focus, even for a few days time, and that happened with the announcement that Leonard Cohen was gone. This, I admit, I was not expecting.

When it comes to the unexpected or to change, I struggle, like most people. Can I right myself though?

If we tilt very far toward one way of living or thinking or being, we’re more likely to topple over. So, I try to remember to remain within some level of my own middle ground. Much of the world struggles with this, in terms of governments or communities or families or individuals.

Change, we think, often means progress, going forward. Suddenly, then along comes the kind of change that feels like it threatens to take us backward. What feels wrong to one person feels oh so right, like going home, back to the way things used to be, should be.

I am not a poet, or am I? I try harder. I try to learn from a man who was, a Canadian legend of a man, who wrote poetry, and novels, and lyrics.

I try to listen, even now, to his voice, in interviews. As he aged and his voice became lower and lower, and deeper and deeper, he kept on learning and discovering what it all meant to be alive.

As I experienced his voice, Growing up, his voice in the songs I had no real connection to, it made me uncomfortable. I can only describe the feeling as one of unsettled. It was all so somber and even frightening. Life, as I realize more and more, is often about allowing oneself to feel the discomfort and all that is often so very unsettling.

A lot of these things that happen, that happened this week, are unsettling in a whole new kind of way. They aren’t all about peace and live and let live, not like a batch of Leonard Cohen lyrics. I realize now that he was sharing all that life can feel like.

We all have our position on a number of issues, key issues that affect us. Some things don’t touch us, hardly at all, or not at all. We can’t possibly listen to every song ever made.

For a long time I have done my best to respect that everyone of us has various positions on the things that matter and those that matter not as much, perhaps, to different people. This becomes harder and harder, which just means the stakes are bigger and bigger.

I stay in my bubble of a life, surrounding myself with other people that often share my sentiments on most things. This can be dangerous, or has proven to be, for not just myself. No wonder, then, that it comes as a shock how other people feel. We do ourselves a huge disservice by not trying to learn what else there is, going on, that another person might just be feeling, in the place where another lives. It’s so very hard to meet another, somewhere in the middle of the road. Some of us would rather walk alone than even try.

Not everybody can write poetry. Not everyone wants to. I should say, anyone could, if they acknowledged the anger but allowed themselves to feel the fear. Art makes things that are so often unbearable, bearable, or just a little less unbearable anyway.

I see greed and fear and unbending, unyielding unwillingness all around, the unwillingness to let life teach us, to admit we don’t know it all. I label these things, as being what is, though I really can’t say, should not say, for sure, at all.

I want to never stop hearing beautiful things, as the ugly is so easy to find, and to produce my own lyrical thought. I want to learn what makes people do and say what they do and say. Human beings will never stop being fascinating to me, for what causes them to be and do it all.

So, why should I be surprised at both the expected and the unexpected in life anyway? I’m not, of either one.

It’s time for another
Finish The Sentence Friday
after a particularly rough week. Though, surprise surprise, whether expected or not, life was always like that.

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NaNo NaNo NaNo, #NaNoWriMo #SoCS

I want to write a novel and
this
is a small bit of what it will be about.

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Three years ago, this very month of November it was, I took a stab at writing my first
novel.

I took part in
National Novel Writing Month
because on their site it said: “The world needs your novel.”

Really? Mine? Hmm.

I had an idea for a novel in my brain for several years. It was a family story about how three generations of a family deal with losing someone they love.

I wrote fifty thousand words in thirty days. The website that year wasn’t all that accessible and so I did not get much farther off from registering. I did not keep track of my word count like everyone else online. I did it on Twitter instead. It didn’t matter that the website for the organization was a bit of a nightmare. All that really truly counted would be the words I would write.

No flashy completion badges for me once I crossed the finish line. I knew in my heart that I’d done it and that was all that mattered.

Three years later and I haven’t done it again, but I did buy the t-shirt.

I did not take a month or two, Christmas off, before returning to my first attempt at a novel like is suggested. I did what they said. I wrote to get to fifty thousand. I would edit later.

Or would I?

I have the words somewhere, I hope. I don’t keep track of all my documents on all the laptop switches since 2014, oops. I emailed a copy to myself, but that may be gone.

Was this one more in a long line of mistakes, failures, and regrets from my writing journey thus far?

I sent it to a friend, even as rough as it was, whom I trusted to give it her honest opinion. Maybe she has a copy still. I wouldn’t count on that.

I was not a planner, as is the case many times in the rest of life. I was a pantser. I didn’t have a plan. I just started to write from my themes of family, loss, grief, and resilience.

I can’t let that idea go, but a novel is such an enormous task to take on.

I would have loved to participate again this year. I have faith that the website has improved for visually impaired and blind users. I now know someone locally, one who is from my local writing group and is in charge of support for writers doing NaNo in our immediate area. My writing group is talking mostly all about NaNo all month.

I would have abandoned my first novel, still in progress somewhere, to try writing this newer idea which has shaped and formed in my mind in the three years since that first attempt.

This one is historical fiction, unlike that first one which took place in a more contemporary setting.

This one will be mostly fiction, but loosely based on family. It takes place in Europe during World War II. It’s about a woman who is a mother of three small children throughout the war. There is struggle and bravery all around her. Her decisions aren’t easy ones.

We who study history know all about the Holocaust, about big events such as D Day, which are both important, but what was life like for other people who were going about their business and living their lives when war broke out?

***Just practicing with early versions of my elevator pitch.

I would have taken a crack at this, but apparently I can’t handle a project of this size and my continual violin lessons at the same time. I haven’t got the brain power to muster for both.

Maybe next year, once I’ve been playing violin for more than a year. Maybe.

So much going on. World events are wild, whether it’s war in the twentieth century or world upheaval in the twenty-first.

My brain is full near to capacity at the moment.

When a story sticks in the head like this one and the one before have, I don’t think I will be getting them out of there anytime soon.

NaNo, NaNo, NaNo sounds like a taunt to me, that I couldn’t hack both writing and music lessons, but this isn’t your ordinary, everyday writing. This week is a tense one, and who knows where we’ll all be next week this time. Hopefully all those brave enough to take on writing fifty thousand words this month will still be writing. I do think it makes for an excellent distraction.

Now I stop writing and it’s time to practice my violin. I just like to do an update on where I am, with every passing year, as November and NaNo again rolls around.

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The Other Awkward Age: My Interview With Jennifer Niesslein

Would you consider yourself “full grown”? Do I? What does that really even mean?

I am getting much better at the idea of asking for what you want. After all, if you never take a chance, ask for what you want, you have no chance whatsoever of getting it.

I’ve admired her from afar. I’ve followed her and her role of running Full Grown People for two years now, ever since I discovered the website, that is.
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I made her aware of me, first by taking the chance to submit a piece of my writing, a somewhat hurried account of a bad breakup. And she returned my submission with a kindly yet direct email, stating how she felt my essay wasn’t the right length and did not feel fully fleshed out. I took this early rejection and I used it to become stronger, to start to develop my writerly thick skin, the one I would need if I were ever to survive being a writer.

When I found the courage to thank her for that early on rejection, she said this:

“I’m glad the rejection was a positive experience because, honestly, passing on essays is the worst part of my job.”

I’ve never forgotten and in some ways that early lesson as a writer, due to Jennifer’s role as FGP editor, it all stuck with me and I see it as a pivotal moment in my writing journey thus far. I was curious to find out more about some of hers.

I’ve respected Jennifer ever since and I considered it bucket list worthy to get the chance to interview her. I asked and she said yes.

Please introduce yourself a little and feel free to mention anything you think might be applicable here. What was your history before Full Grown People, just to set the stage?

I started out in the mid-nineties at an alternative newsweekly here in Charlottesville, Virginia. The staff was tiny, and so I got to learn every aspect of the business, from reporting and editing to layout to ad-to-edit ratio. I met the woman who’d become my business partner at Brain, Child there, the awesome Stephanie Wilkinson. (She was writing the book column while finishing her Ph.D.) We started Brain, Child, a literary magazine about motherhood, in 2000. (Our first issue came out in 2001.) It was great run. We sold the magazine in 2012, and in 2013, I started Full Grown People!

I stumbled upon that magazine somewhere, a year or so after Jennifer launched it. It has changed my life. There aren’t enough hours in a day to read everything, visit every site and blog of interest, so only a certain handful stick in the end. Twice a week, every Tuesday and Thursday (give or take), I visit FGP to learn about the lives of others who have decided to write about becoming fully grown people. As the editor, I wanted to know from Jennifer first and foremost:

What has writing meant to you in your own life?

It’s meant different things over the years, but pretty much consistently in my adult life, it’s helped me figure out tough stuff. That said, I live a pretty charmed life, so I write less than I edit.

I was barely thirty years old when I started reading the essays to be found on Full Grown People. This meant I wasn’t feeling all that full grown at the time. I wasn’t so sure where I fit in actually, no longer being a member of the popular twenty-something age group of bloggers and writers, who were discovering the reach of today’s social media craze. I wasn’t a mother. I was newly single and on my own. I hardly felt like a grown-up with all the usual responsibilities that come with that. I was feeling child-like, but yet with my adult years and middle age looming, seemingly frighteningly close. I started reading Jennifer’s writers and their views on all the things that come with being full grown, so now that I’ve got the chance to ask her:

What does the “full grown” in Full Grown People mean to you?

In the thick of life. There’s a whole category of literature called “coming of age” stories, but I think the truth is, we’re all coming of age throughout our lives, adjusting to new realities. 

This is why it was that I likely gravitated to this publication amongst all the others found online, all the places where essays are found. I didn’t have to be a mother to fit in and to understand where so many of the writers were coming from. I could be who I was, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a writer, and a woman. I did wonder though, what the differences were between running a publication specifically for parents and one in which the whole package of life lived was being covered.

What does it take to run a publication like Brain, Child vs Full Grown People? Are they similar at all and in what ways are they or aren’t they?

Well, my caveat is, I’m describing Brain, Child as it was when Steph and I ran it. (We’re no longer affiliated with it, so I can’t speak to its current incarnation.)
In some ways, BC and FGP are completely different animals. BC was print; FGP is web. So the business models are completely different. And while personal essays were the bulk of what we ran in Brain, Child, we also ran reported pieces, fiction, humor, etc. FGP is strictly essays. I think the common denominator is a respect for the reader’s intelligence and some damn fine writing. 

All caveats aside, I wanted to know, “some damn fine writers” and “respecting the reader’s intelligence”, but what else does Jennifer look for in terms of the kinds of essays she publishes on Full Grown People?

What sorts of things do you look for in a piece you might publish on FGP vs a piece of writing that might just not be right for the site?

Whoo-ee. I never know how to answer this question. This piece that I wrote for Brevity is about as succinct as I can get:

Seven Essays I Meet in My Literary Heaven – BREVITY’S Non Fiction Blog
(Another publication I read and love.)

I can’t imagine what it takes to put something as fabulous as Full Grown People together on an almost weekly rotation. Her control over the entire FGP in its entirety has had me in awe since I learned of what she does with it.

How would you describe the job of editor/editing vs simply writing?

Editing and writing uses two different parts of my brain. (Okay, maybe not literally.) If I’m doing my job right, my editing is invisible to the reader—it’s taking a writer’s work and helping make it as close to the essay’s Platonic ideal as possible. I think of editing as a collaboration. Writing is me doing me. And if I’m doing that right, it’s also a sort of collaboration between me and the reader—that my words will somehow tweak the way the reader thinks about something.

I couldn’t imagine anyone could or would go through year after year of putting out such wide variety of people’s personal essays without discovering things about the universality of life. What has that been for Jennifer?

What have you learned since you started FGP, about the universalities we all experience or about those who’ve wanted to share such things with you and your readers?

I learned this at Brain, Child, too:  you never know what someone is privately going through. 

True. Oh so true Jennifer. I often think that.

Then comes the small visual aspect of every essay Full Grown People publishes, but I have a feeling, though I don’t see each photo, that the part these elected images plays in the accompaniment of every essay isn’t small at all. I couldn’t see the pictures, only reading the essays, but I have noticed, from the start of reading them on a weekly basis, that there is a definite bond of respect between words and visuals, between Jennifer and her main photographer.

You have a photo accompanying every essay you publish. Most of the time one photographer in particular.
http://ginaeasley.com
What do Gina Easley’s photographs, for example, what do you think her art adds to the essays?

I think Gina’s amazing work adds another dimension to the essays, like any time you combine two art forms.  


People are always going to be growing and going through things and thus I believe there will always be a place for someone and somewhere, wanting to share those experiences.

Where do you see Full Grown People heading in the future?

Hopefully, just growing and growing! We have two anthologies already and I hope to publish more.

Jennifer Niesslein has made a huge impression on me as a “fully grown” woman and as a growing writer. From the success and popularity of Full Grown People that I’ve seen over these past two or three years, I know I’m not the only one.

You’ve made quite the impact in the world of literary and personal essays and a name for yourself and the website. What does that mean to you?

That’s kind of you to say, Kerry! It’s very gratifying. I’ve been a reader before I was a writer or an editor, so in a way, it’s an extension of who I’ve always been—the person who’s always saying, “You HAVE to read this!” And I’ve been so lucky to work with the writers and Gina—they set the bar high.

And finally, I wanted to ask Jennifer about the barriers for writers of different minorities, as she has seen a lot over her time in publishing. Things hopefully do evolve over time and I am sure, by now, it’s obvious how highly I respect her opinions on the always changing publishing and writing landscapes.

As a woman in the position you are now in, what might you say to the next generation of women who want to make a mark with their writing or some of the other things you’ve tackled? What sorts of barriers do you see less of over the years and which ones do you still see as potential problem areas for women in the world of writing and publishing?

That’s a good question (and, honestly, the first time I’ve been asked)! I’m a little leery of offering advice because there are such huge variables in women’s experiences and circumstances, and I don’t want to minimize the privileges I’ve had. But I would suggest learning as many writing- and editing-related skill sets as you can; I’ve had to wear many hats, and in the end, it’s given me greater creative control over my work. But the most important thing is having at least one person who will look at your work and tell it to you straight, with kindness. For a long time, my aspirations were a little, um, greater than my ability, and having someone or a group of someones to point out where I was flubbing and when a possible different approach could help was invaluable.
The best thing I’m seeing about barriers is just how many publications there ARE now—which means more opportunities for writers. The worst barriers are the same old things: the bias against women writers, and the even greater bias against disabled writers, writers of color, LGBTQ writers. I’m guardedly hopeful that the publishing climate will get better or get replaced—just because the conversations around equity have been more public than they were when I was a whipper snapper. 

I greatly value these views on equity, the existence of lingering bias, and the need for things like perseverance and determination, all of us just trying to survive in this world of publishing and self expression, as writers and creatives.

I want to thank Jennifer Niesslein for agreeing to do this interview. It has been a huge honour having her here.

Adulthood, all stages included, and we’re all just doing our best, trying to make it through “The Other Awkward Age”.

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TToT: Wave Form Audio – Drop and Drag, #10Thankful #RoaldDahl100

“Don’t analyze. Don’t analyze. Don’t go that way. Don’t live that way. That would paralyze your evolution.”

Analyze – The Cranberries

I love autumn and am glad when the days cool off from oppressive summer heat waves. Lots of waves. Waves at the beach this past summer. Waves of fear that I am making wrong choices or not making choices out of fear to begin with. There are audio waves too, I’m learning. Letting that wash over me.

September has arrived and I feel a lot of pressure. I feel tense a lot. I feel the turmoil going on everywhere around me, in this giant and complex world. I try to find my place in it. I try to not allow things I have no control over to drive me to even more stress and distraction. Such anxieties are common, universal, and I can get through and keep moving forward.

And so, here I am, I will try not to analyze everything and I am more thankful than ever.

I am thankful for the perfect title for an essay I’m working on.

It was provided by one of my brother’s friends on Facebook.

I know. I know. I need to finish writing the entire essay, but I get inspiration and a direction to my essays if I have the right title to begin with.

This one is just so perfect, so fitting, and then I took his idea and I ran with it.

I am thankful I have started to learn a new song on my violin. It’s a special one, something I’m learning for someone special who’s on the way, before we know it.

This required I start playing a new string, the D string. Up until now I was only playing on half of my strings, E and A, but now I need to learn to move my fingers over just a little more and to hold my bow on a slightly differing angle.

I am thankful to have such a smart niece, one who seems wiser than her nearly six years on this planet and who knows how and when to ask the right questions.

Okay, so she may have done that thing where you answer a question with another question, but when you have something important to ask, I say go for it.

I am thankful that we got the second episode of our podcast all done and recorded.

All we need to do now is a little bit of editing. We were aiming to keep Ketchup On Pancakes at sixty minutes, which episode one just magically seemed to be. This one’s looking more like seventy minutes, but we think we can cut it down a bit more before we release it.

We just need to research more about podcast platforms and how it all works.

I’m thankful, especially, that we got one segment in particular completed.

We decided to read one of the short stories I’d previously written on my blog, as more of a dramatic reading, and you don’t realize how difficult that is until you keep messing up words.

It took about eight or nine takes to get through the small story with the least amount of mistakes throughout. We were both reading from our braille devices and you can actually hear our fingers moving across the dots as they pop up, as we move through the lines. We decided we like that sound in the background.

I am thankful for awareness for pain.

It’s something I don’t talk a lot about on my blog. The stigma and judgments are out there and sometimes I feel like people don’t want to keep hearing about it.

September is Pain Awareness Month and I do believe that anyone living with pain should not have to hide away. I know that must sound contradictory, but I do believe fear of judgment is often what it boils down to.

I am thankful and grateful because I actually have a pretty wonderful support system, where others do not. I do want to bring this silent suffering out into the open.

I have found some things that help and that work to make things bearable, but I thought it worth mentioning at this time.

I am thankful for even more awareness of a different kind.

Whether it’s the awareness of feminist issues or disability awareness, this week I was reminded a lot and heard from those speaking out and up.

Rick Hansen Interview – CBC’s The National

Again, people fight it. They become angry and defensive, on both sides, but if you’ve never experienced something yourself, I would hope there would be compassion and a little understanding for something someone else may have gone through to make them feel they need to say something or do something.

There are some who say they don’t want to identify themselves as feminist. That probably means, once again, they haven’t had many problems with something, be that a woman who has lived a somewhat privileged life and has had no reason to feel the need to fight for something.

I don’t care what you call it. I call it feminism and people freak out. I use the word equality and it’s pointed out that nobody has total equality with everything. I just speak from my unique experiences. I’ve been lucky, but I’ve also felt extremely limited in the world. I am taking steps toward empowerment, but it’s not as easy as it might seem.

I am thankful for a relatively stress free visit to a school for the blind in a city not too far from me.

I did not go there for my education. I went there this week to check out some computer equipment, to see about getting some new technology.

A lot of that is now becoming more accessible with the introduction of Apple products. They don’t require, for the first time, extra software or programs to make things square. It’s all built in.

But there’s still the braille readers and they can be thousands of dollars. Here in Canada, in Ontario where I live, there is a governmental program which helps out with the cost.

I am thankful my nephew made it through his first full week of school.

We ask him if he likes school, if his teacher is nice, and we get mostly “yes” to our questions.

He’s probably wondering why we are so curious. Things are more likely to come out at more random moments, like the rocks from the playground he kept bringing home in his pockets, or the little girls who are likely a few years older than him and who help him with his backpack when it’s time to get off of the bus.

It’s both exciting and anxiety inducing. He’s getting so big. All the children in my life are.

I am thankful for the connection made possible through WhatsApp.

It’s how my friend living over in Ireland sends family back here in Canada photos and videos of her one-year-old daughter.

I am honoured to be added to such an exclusive group. She includes descriptions of the pictures when she sends them so I know what’s going on in them.

Oh, and, Happy Birthday Mr. Dahl, who would’ve turned 100 this week.

My grandfather Roald Dahl, the magician

This article written by his granddaughter in The Guardian made me miss my own grandfather, who never published a book, but who was a magical storyteller himself.

“I will not pretend I wasn’t petrified. I was. But mixed in with the awful fear was a glorious feeling of excitement. Most of the really exciting things we do in our lives scare us to death. They wouldn’t be exciting if they didn’t.” So says the boy hero of Danny, the champion of the world.

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