Where'd I Leave It Wednesday

The Puzzle of Building a Jigsaw

Happy Wednesday bookish people! I missed last week’s Where’d I Leave It Wednesday but I’m back! This will probably be a shorter post than usual but I hope you will all still enjoy it.

Today’s story is about the struggle of completing a jigsaw…

I love doing jigsaws. The satisfying clunk as each piece slots into place. Seeing the picture growing because of the work being put into it. It takes up time but I barely notice as the hours pass by. At the moment I have a jigsaw half completed taking up residence on the front room carpet. It’s pride of place, balancing precariously on a green mat that rises in different places like countryside hills have sprung up overnight. The pieces bend and crack over the hills, the tabs are like arms trying to grip to their neighbour or otherwise crumble to the bottom. An avalanche of puzzle pieces with every footstep in the house.

I’m getting close to finishing this puzzle. With a few more days of working it will be completed and the dressmakers shop it depicts will come to life in my living room. It’s 500 pieces taking up the space of 1000 pieces. The puzzle drew me in from the very first web search I did. ‘Extra large jigsaw puzzles’ that’s what I searched. There aren’t many, that’s what I discovered. Even this one saying extra large pieces all over it’s packaging isn’t as large a piece as you’d expect. it’s a constant search for me.. to find puzzles that I can see the pieces of without having to resort to puzzles that have ‘7 and up’ scrawled over the front like a flashing label that says look at me I have to do children’s jigsaws when I’m 22. This doesn’t include Disney, because Disney is for any age and I won’t hear anything against this.

I have a lovely Disney puzzle. I took it down my partner’s Dad’s on Boxing Day last year. Set out every individual piece with a careful precision. Took in each and every colour and distinguishing feature. The edges were built, an elegant frame. Then the inside was filled, piece by piece, I put in what I thought was the final piece. Wonderful, I sat back to take in what we had completed. Then I noticed, there was a piece missing. I looked everywhere for it, it wasn’t in the bed or on the floor.. no, my partner had it. He had taken it at some point during the day and kept it hidden from me so that he could put the last piece into the puzzle. Then he looked at me and said ‘I win’. I still contest this.

That’s it for today’s story, I hope you all enjoyed it!

Where'd I Leave It Wednesday

The Misadventures Of My Bladder – Where’d I Leave It Wednesday

Happy Wednesday everyone! It’s time for another story. This one is a mix of a few stories around a topic. I hope you all enjoy it.

The misadventures of the bladder

I have a weak bladder. More recently especially. This had led to some interesting events and many embarrassing moments throughout my life. I think it stems from being at secondary school and holding it all day. I wouldn’t go to the toilet from the time I left home at twenty to eight until I got home at four each day. Simply because I couldn’t see well enough to go down stairs to the toilet in the basement. The stairs were redecorated to ‘help’ me and they made them a navy blue with heaps of glitter flowing in it and a black stripe on the edge. They might as well have taken the stairs out all together and made it a ramp because that is what it looked like, to me anyway. I also took a few trips down them missing out more than a couple steps on my way down each time. That is the only adrenaline rush I ever needed.
          Not that I wanted to use that toilet anyway, the rumour was that many years before I went there a girl hung herself in that toilet. Nobody ever checked if it was true or not but it was enough to frighten me. Not that it takes much to frighten me. I have weak nerves as well as a weak bladder. I was only prepared to use that toilet, even though I never did, because the toilets upstairs in the main hall were the meeting place of an older group of girls. They hung around in the toilets at break and lunch as if they were a secret agency and didn’t want anyone to see them. Either that or they were hiding from a male teacher. They would be in there eating their lunch and I have a problem with other people and food. Generally other people touching my food. I can’t drink out of a glass somebody else has drunk out of, I can’t eat off a piece of cutlery somebody else has eaten off. So, girls eating lunch in the bathroom ruled out me ever going within touching distance of the door handle let alone actually going toilet in there.
            This is what I believe was the beginning of my misadventures. It certainly wasn’t the end of them. Trains are disorientating for me. You can sit in your seat and not know if you are going to be travelling forwards or backwards. It doesn’t help that I can’t see which part of the train is the engine so when I find my seat it really is a mystery. But the toilets on trains really are the things that haunt my nightmares. For one thing, you have to walk past everyone else in your carriage to get to the section where the toilet is. You might as well have a large sign stuck to your forehead in neon flashing letters saying “I’m going to the toilet”. As if that isn’t bad enough you don’t know until you get there if the toilet is already occupied. If it is not only have you tried the handle and let the person in there know you are waiting but, I know from experience, it makes them try and hurry whatever they are doing. It’s a very awkward moment between two people when they have to squeeze past you as you swap occupants of the toilet. Both of you at this point also know you heard everything that happened in that bathroom since you have been there. Its an intimate knowledge of a stranger that you could probably have lived without knowing. I know I could have. It’s happened to me many times, I have been both people in that situation. Toilets are difficult for me in general because I have hypermobility in my fingers and so locks can be difficult to navigate. Luckily, I am also disabled and I can use disabled toilets. It’s a luxury I don’t think I deserve. An expansive space, an easy handle lock that I can fit my whole hand around rather than using two nimble fingers to gently edge a bolt lock shut. No fear surrounding me as I use the bathroom that, maybe this time, I won’t be able to get the lock open and I will be stuck in the toilet forever. I’ve even been known to think up a list of toilet monster names for myself just in case this ever happens. The toilets on trains are not like disabled toilets. They are small and not very helpful for blind people. There are little signs with instructions hidden behind the toilet and behind the sink, you would have to be a contortionist to be able to read them. And that is if you have working eyes never mind eyes that like to do their own thing. I’ve become accustomed to spending most of my time on a toilet, not just on trains, because of being locked in. I’ve always gotten out eventually but there is one moment that I remember well.
           It was 2014 and my whole family was on the Eurostar on the way to Disneyland Paris for my sister’s eighteenth birthday. We had been lulled into a false sense of security when they upgraded our tickets to first class for free. They had fed us up like they were the Witch and we were Hansel and Gretel. We didn’t suspect a thing. Then it got to the inevitable moment when a few of us, my Grandma, my Sister and I, all needed the toilet. It was lucky on this train there were enough toilets in a row for us to all go. Then, unbelievably, all three of us got stuck. We pulled on the locks but they wouldn’t budge. The toilets were our prison cells for the next ten minutes or so. At least they were next to each other. We could talk to each other through the walls like we were convicts in a production of Les Misérables. Then finally we were freed. Nobody could believe how unlucky we were, its bad that one person could get stuck but for all three of us at the same time it was barely believable. Although, I would rather get stuck in a toilet than what happened during one of the trips to London. If you have ever wondered what the walls of the toilet stall feels like when travelling at a mid to high speed, I can tell you it feels like you would imagine hitting a solid wall feels like. It hurt. Yes, the train jerked when I was the most vulnerable and with no chance of stopping myself, I was propelled off the toilet and into the wall. It happened fast and it took me a few moments to realise that I was now sprawled on the floor. I had to try and leave the toilet with a dignity that I no longer possessed. And that everyone in that train carriage that I now had to pass on my way back to my seat almost definitely heard the impact I made with the wall. It was not my best moment. These are only some of the misadventures of my bladder.

That’s it for today’s story, I hope you enjoyed it!

Uncategorized

The Kitten Escapades Part 1

Happy Sunday bookish people! I hope everyone’s weekend has been lovely. Today my story is going to be one of the (many!) things that our kitten has done – he’s a crazy ball of fluff, very curious and very mischievous. He knows what things he shouldn’t do he just does them anyway. So, I’m probably going to turn this into a series, that’s why this is part one, because he’s almost definitely going to be doing naughty things for a while yet.

We got him, I say ‘we’ – he’s my Sister’s kitten but he loves me more, in October of 2020. My Sister’s friend had a cat called Luna who had four kittens (Trigger, Rusty, Opal and Shadow) three boys and one girl. Then unfortunately Luna was hit by a car and the kittens were left motherless. My Sister and her friend then hand reared the four kittens and one of them became very attached to my Sister and we got to keep him! Now we have a black and white kitten called Shadow. He’s afraid of everything and he likes to wake up at nighttime and play with his toys that have bells on them.

So, last week I was in the bath, and it was warm and relaxing and lovely. except for the slight breeze coming through the door that has to be left ajar. Shadow doesn’t like being shut out of rooms, he cries and cries at the door if you do. He especially doesn’t like being shut out of the bathroom because he likes to curl up on the purple flower mat that we have in there. If it ever goes really quiet in the house we would probably find him asleep there on the bathroom mat. So that’s why we have to keep the bathroom door open if any of us are in the bath – well, actually my Mum and I are the only ones who keep it open because we can’t resist the cute little kitten.

I’m in the bath, the door is open, and in comes Shadow. I could hear him purring but I couldn’t see him from where I was so I assumed he was just getting comfortable and then he would go to sleep. This is not what he did. It went very quiet and again I assumed he was asleep and I’d just have to be careful not to stand on him when I got out of the bath. So I’m washing my hair and for some reason I do this with my eyes closed, don’t ask me why because honestly I have no idea. Then all of a sudden I open my eyes and a black and white blur shoots over the edge of the bath. The front half of it starts to land on the edge next to me. But then it slips. And suddenly there’s a kitten in my bath. He does not like water and as soon as he hit the water he was already trying to get out, unfortunately for him there was something in his way from doing that. My leg, it was my leg in the way because he had fallen on it and now he was scratching it in his rush to get out. He did manage to get out. I screamed, he meowed, everyone downstairs heard and he showered me in water droplets and cat hair when he was firmly on the bathroom mat again. I might start closing the door from now on…

That’s it for this story! I hope everyone enjoyed it! I’m going to be posting some book reviews today as well so come back to read those if you are interested. Also, the kittens in the picture are not mine, I wasn’t able to post a photo of my kitten for safety reason but there are going to be photos on my instagram @the_blind_scribe if you want to see him!

Where'd I Leave It Wednesday

The Feet of Flavour Fest

Hello! Happy Wednesday everyone! This week feels like it’s going by super quickly, does anybody else feel that? It’s already halfway through the week – it’s been a productive one at least. On Monday I got to see my boyfriend again after way too long apart, we had a lovely picnic. And yesterday I finally got out of my reading slump and read two books – The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater and Bridge of Souls by Victoria Schwab if you’re interested in my thoughts on these I’ll be putting up book reviews for them soon. They really helped get me out of my slump and now I’m desperate to just keep reading the next book on my TBR.

So today… is the second installment of Where’d I Leave It Wednesday, it’s only a short story for today, and the story for today happened around two years ago at the Plymouth Flavour Fest. In case you don’t know what that is, it’s a big market in the middle of the town centre (I believe it’s a South West of England festival) where each of the stalls has a variety of food, drinks and even a few craft stalls. The food and drink stalls are often pretty generous with their free samples as well – I’m never going to complain about that!

I was very interested in some particular stalls (ahem *the stall with the jam sponges on it*) that had food that I have a particular weakness for (I really love jam, okay) on them. And I will admit to you – but you have to promise to never tell anyone – I might have had more than one free sample…. alright I had about three or four I admit it! I’d also persuaded my Mum to buy a couple to take home with us which I can tell you, I thoroughly enjoyed later. I promise I shared – I let the rest of my family have one to share between them.

Anyway, I was so distracted by the scent of homemade jam and sponge cake that had just come out of the oven (honestly, I can smell it now while I’m typing this) that I lose track of everything going on around me. It was only when I turned to walk away with my Mum that I noticed something was wrong. I couldn’t move my cane. It felt like it was properly lodged in something but I couldn’t see a single thing it could have been stuck in. I tried to just pull on it as hard as I could but it would not budge. I tried to jiggle it and shake it free from whatever it was stuck in but that didn’t work either. By this time my Mum was itching to get away from the crowds so she wasn’t very impressed with the hunt the cane scenario that was happening. But it was my Mum that finally figured out where it was stuck – a woman’s shoe.

A living human woman who was stood next to me and now had the end of my cane trapped down the back of her shoe. And she had noticed it. You might be asking what did you do about it? I’ll tell you. I pulled my cane really hard and straight up, freeing it from the back of her shoe and then I turned around and walked away. I wonder if she still remembers this day… I certainly do because there’s no way that my family are ever going to let me forget that I got my cane trapped in a woman’s shoe.

That’s it for today’s post! I hope you all enjoyed reading it!