Back in high school, Lindsay and I coined the phrase "blind moment." This phrase refers to a situation that occurs due to my blindness that leads to inevitable hysterical laughter and stories that last for years to come.
The first time a "blind moment" was recognised as happening, we were at a music performance somewhere in Michigan and I was frantically searching for my socks. It was early in the morning and I was sitting on my bottom bunk under Lindsay, throwing blankets, pillows and whatever I could feel off of the bed. After some crazy flailing, Lindsay finally asked me what was going on. I explained to her that I knew I had pulled my socks out of my suitcase, but they were nowhere to be found. Lindsay being the fabulous friend that she is, hung from her waist off of the top bunk only to report that my socks were lying in my lap. Thus, the "blind moment" was born.
Now, considering that I am still blind and probably will be forever, blind moments happen on a semi-frequent basis, but some are more noteworthy than others. Today would be a good example of this.
Early this morning, after consuming breakfast and a bucket of coffee, I dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, brought Jetta and Glacier out on to the deck with me so that I could scrape the gunk that had accumulated there over the winter out. This is not a fun job and is quite tedious. In fact, it was one I had started earlier this week, but only got the gumption back this morning to complete.
While I was seasawing the butter knife through the compacted dog fur, dirt, leaves and whatever else the seasons had decided to deposit between the boards of the deck, I noticed a neighbour using a chainsaw in his backyard that is connected to my parents'. I just assumed he was chopping down a tree and continued scraping. At one point, Glacier and Jetta went down the deck's stairs and I heard,
"good morning neighbour."
I replied Mr. Chainsaw asked me if I wanted some firewood. I said yes, thinking that he would chop up the tree he was cutting down and leave it by my parents' firepit. It took me three and a half hours to finish the deck and the neighbour and his chainsaw were long gone.
When Mom got home from work this afternoon, I told her that our neighbour had given us some firewood. She said that was nice and we went out for a few hours. Upon returning, we sat down to eat at the kitchen table which looks out on to the backyard.
"Where did the pine tree go?" Mom asked.
There was a long pause as the realisation that our neighbour had cut down the dead, woodpecker hole riddled pine tree for us.
If that's not a blind moment, I don't know what is. I was out there the whole time and didn't even know he cut down a tree. So, for future reference, if I am ever over visiting, don't let me tell your neighbour that firewood would be nice because you may just end up one tree less. :)