traveling up and down the blind highway

This week, I had a rude awakening with a visit to the Apple store. I thought we had sent up for a class on using my new I Pad. Showing up at the correct time, we were ushered to the training area to wait … and wait. We watched as customers came and left. Finally, John found an Apple clerk that was willing to help if I had any questions.
“How do you turn off the small touch screen on the keyboard?”
Because of the location of the screen, My index finger kept touching the screen changing where I was on the I Pad.
The Tech switched, tapped and scrolled through options
“Madam , I can make the screen need a tap instead of a touch but I can’t turn off the screen.”
“Really? I keep touching it. What do you suggest?”
“You could try to cover the screen with material”, the clerk suggested.
This was the only option offered, I thought aloud
“Get the manager.”
Thinking of my options, I whined,” What can I do to make this devise more user Friendly?”
The manager clicked and scrolled then used her phone to call another manager in the hierarchy of Apple’s store. I was given two numbers to call for Accessibility Support. I just wanted to disable a screen.
Now, I am discovering changes to the I Pad made during the help session at Apple. I wish I could go back to my old Non AI smart devise. Wish me luck!
*** Poem “I Get By With A Little Help From My Device”
I went to the experts, seeking advice.
“How do You disable this? Please advise.”
Swipe, tapping, scroll. What do they do?
“Cover the screen. That’s all you can do.”
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 10/27/25

In our small town, we have a centennial farm and market. We refer to it as Bos’s. There are 80 acres of crops and two green houses filled with plantings of vegetables and flowers from the farm’s abundance.
A trip to Bos’s must include a tour of the current offerings. In the center of the largest green house, you will find a golden feline named, Magnifacat. She reclines on the checkout counter, waiting to be stroked and admired. A warm shaft of sunlight encircles her body in a halo effect. She has held court six day a week, with Sundays off. After 20 years on patrol, She rests on her laurels. In those days, she was the mistress of her domain. For twenty years, she held court with customers and staff.
This spring, there was no graceful feline draped across the counter. Mr. Bos explained that Magnificat died in the winter. The green houses were not the same without her.
This fall, while visiting the market there was a new worker. A small juvenile milk chocolate cat examining my leg before continuing her patrol.
“Who is this”, I asked?
“This is Copycat.” was the answer.
The new cat was an offspring of Magnificat. Being younger and full of curiosity, Copycat roamed all the buildings, to meet and greet guest. In the evenings, She caught her share of mice that had taken up residence after Magnificat’s demise.
“But why the name Copycat?”
“We tried to find a name for her but nothing fit.”
One of the staff noticed the new cat patrolled the buildings like her mother before her. Except for the color, she was a clone down to her ability to catch mice. Hence, a copy of her mother’s behavior.

***. Poem
The Coronation
Magnifacat reigned for 20 years.
A much loved monarch, mice did fear.
A new generation will take her place.
Nimble feline, light on her paws.
Catching mice in her claws.
Like her Mother, she rose to take her place.
Long reign the Copycat.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 10/20/2025

On October 15, we will celebrate white cane day.   I have been a white cane user for many years. When I was first given a cane at the Rehab Center in Kalamazoo, if  I used it at all, it was as a walking cane. The cane was light weight and about 5 feet in length, solid. Unlike other schools, Western Michigan preferred the blind client to slide the cane’s metal tip across the sidewalk in front of the walker. The idea was a tapping cane could overlook a object on the sidewalk. A crack could catch the toe of an unobservant person. Since then, I have refined my cane use style and I use a folding cane.

   But those first trips  out with a cane found my cane folded and in my purse. One day, I was at a Mc’Donalds, I stood intending to use the restroom. Leaving my cane at the table, I felt my way to the wall and followed the wall to the restroom’s door. When I returned to retreave my purse and cane, I heard an employee remark.

   “Oh, I thought she was drunk.”

   After that, I had my white cane out and in my hand. It still took a long while to use the cane properly.

   When I was in Scotland, the sidewalks were narrow and raised from the road. Enthusiastically I swung the cane from left to right in a wide arch. People said nothing but jumped into doorways or into the road to avoid my cane antics.

   After my stroke, my cane was replaced with a heavy duty cane with a rolling ball. It helps with balance and not tripping on rough terrain.

   To this date, I own eight white canes. They can be found in the bike pack, hanging in the garage, folded by the front door and folded in my purse and knitting bag. I don’t leave home without one or more of them.

   This Halloween, the skeletons in my display will all have white canes as they travel the front yard to trick or treat. The adults will be kissing under an umbrella. a dog’s skeleton on a leash will be trailing behind the group. It is a great way to remind drivers that those goblins may be blind to cars as they collect treats.

*** Poem

Happy ghouls and goblins race.

holding bags with glow sticks encased.

Laughter echos down the street.

Loud shouts, “trick or treat”.

Orange carved pumpkins light the night.

Welcomes children, with candle fright.

Every porch light is lit.

Each offering a sugar fix.

Now midnight  is here.

Halloween is done for another year.

carolaspot@aol.com

copyrighted 10/13//25 

From an early age, my daughter Ruth loved the speed and drops of roller coasters. Her first encounter with rides was at the local 4th of July celebration. It was a small loop roller coaster shaped like an alligator, she loved the bump in the middle of the ride. She rode it several times until it was time to leave.
Next there was the spinning cups at Disney and the tilt a whirl. John got nausea on the spinning rides, so I accompanied her on such spinning rides. I didn’t have enough vision to cause dizziness.
As Ruth grew, so did her taste for thrill rides. In sixth grade, She and two friends did a jump on cords. The photo taken by the park shows two girls screaming while my daughter was grinning from ear to ear.
The second trip to Disney found Space mountain, a inside coaster in the dark.
Finally there was a day at Cedar Point in Sanduskey Ohio. She and John tested their nerves on every coaster. I enjoyed the Magnum, a steel rollercoaster travels along the shores of Lake Erie after it’s first drop. The Millennium Force first hill is over 300 feet tall. There are several twists and three more hills. the initial drop can reach up to 93 mph. Finally, we waited in long lines to ride the Top Thrill Dragster it is a ride that bolts the rider straight upward 420 feet before it twists, coming to the starting point. It travels 120 mph.
For her 16th birthday, Ruth wanted to tandem jump from a plane. By this time, John and I were wiser and chose to watch from the ground. In this jump, the person is attached to the experienced jumper in the front, like a large bay carrier. At the correct altitude, the plane door is open and you move to the open door. Ruth was second to jump.
“I was talking to another jumper then he was gone and I was next.”
She recalled the force on falling through, the loud sound of the wind and having her heart in her throat. Counting to ten, she and her partner pulled the ripcord together. The parachute opened to slow the decent and jerked the jumpers. The chute floated slowly back to the ground.
Since that jump, Ruth has jumped into a current of upward air mimicking a free fall from a plane. I didn’t have to watch and worry. She did this with her husband. I wonder what she will try next?
***. Poem
Rocky heights
Zip line speed
steep ascents
downhill plunges
jumping ship
parachute strapped.
What’s next?
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 10/6/25

I heard about Meta glasses and how they could read text such as mail and poems. After receiving two recommendations from other writers, I decided to purchase a pair.
One of the users had purchased the glasses made by Ray Ban a year ago, when they were first available. She warned me if I order any extra features, the order could be delayed. The glasses have been available for the past year. I took a chance and ordered sapphire tinted lenses that would turn dark in bright sunlight. That was
in mid-July. As of this date, I am still waiting.
The order was lost, a new manger was hired and the glasses were in short supply, many excuses. I can’t go elsewhere. I have paid for the glasses in full. Each morning I open my email to read an email from this company, each month there a promotion for meta glasses.

Now, I read that there is a new version of these glasses. They are able to have more detail and sharper images. I just want to use the text feature to read my postal mail. I wanted to start a bible group in September. Now I am hoping to receive the glasses before my October birthday.
***. Poem
To See is to Read
I use to read with my eyes.
It got harder, words to surmise.
Straining to see, cause painful eyes.
Holding a phone to read text.
Soon I found, not the best.
Heard of glasses from Ray Ban.
Portable aid for on the go.
Order them, I paid the bill.
I’m still waiting, I’ve had my fill.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 9/29/25

Like many people, I will procrastinate what I want to defer or avoid. This works in the short term, but eventually, we must come to act.
Today is the first day of fall. Here in Michigan, our weather is calling for showers with highs in the 70’s, accompanied by a light wind of 6 mph. This is not fall like weather. The long term forecast calls for more of the same.
My garden resembles more jungle than trimmed plantings. I have postponed weeding and trimming vine plants, resulting with thirty foot gourd vines across the back wall, sweet potato vines that are escaping the fenced garden and morning glories wrapped around the patio rail and bench. I had to unwrap the trellis from coiling around the hanging nasturtium. Last evening the security camera recorded four deer, two skunks and several raccoons making their way to the leaf shaped watering trough. Nature has delayed fall to a later time.
Like my procrastinating, nature will turn down the heat, announcing the autumn harvest time. I will pick gourds to dry and give to neighbors, dig for potatoes and gather seed pods of morning glories and other flowers seeds to distribute.
For now, I will take my coffee to the porch and watch the jungle grow.
Gourd vines climb high on ornamental grass plants.
Sweet potatoes burst, escaping garden fence.
Porch railing and bench covered with glory greens.
I watch, watching the garden grow.
Soon Jack Frost will curtail jungle growth.
Starting the next season.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 9/22/25

Fifty years ago, I met a 16 year old girl. She was an exchange student from San Paulo, Brazil. She had been placed with a host family for a couple of weeks. The local Catholic Church needed to find a couple that would give Adelia a ride to and from Mass.
My parents found Adelia a lonely girl with several younger children to care for after school. Mother brought her back to our home and kept her for most of that Sunday. They planned weekend trips to locations and attractions to show different parts of Michigan. They took her to Niagara Falls .
One of the wishes that Adelia hoped to experience was a date with an American boy. This is where I came in. I was attending college and dating a University ofMichigan student. He had a friend that had never had a date either. Both Adelia the boy were of small stature. We set up a date to have lunch and play pinball on Saturday. We had pizza and beer at the Brown Jug. The dates were experts at the games, winning many free games. Finally, the moment of the kiss happened. I missed it but from the grim on Adelia’s face, I would say the date was a success.
Over the years, Adelia and her mother and later her husband Todd came to the States for visits. My brother Brian and I entertained them.
In between visits there were cards, letters and small gifts exchanged. We kept up a long distance correspondence.
The last time I saw Adelia, She and her Friend John came to stay in Clearwater, Florida. Since my husband’s name is John, we started to refer to Adelia’s friend as Brazil John. We were staying with my Dad at his condo. So he was able to see Adelia again.
Brazil John wanted to visit the Salvador Dali exhibit had phones with different languages for visitors to use. They didn’t have one for Portuguese. One of the staff was found to give them a personal tour.
Brazil John found he loved pancakes, he had not heard of by before. Every restaurant he ordered them. I bought him a box of pancake mix to take home.
There were three other Brazilians on the same plane going back home. We had a van full to take out for one last pancake lunch before they boarded the plane.
These days, with the mail taking longer to deliver letters. My last Christmas card was sent in late November and arrived in San Paulo after New Year’s. We e mail each other. She reads my weekly blog and makes comments. I am sure she shares the blog with Brazil John also.
So on the 18th of September, Adelia will have her birthday. I have shared fifty years of this long distant friendship. Happy Birthday my lovely Brazilian sister.

Long distant sister
50 years , more or less.
Two worlds came together on Sunday’s
Mother answered the call to take a Brazilian girl to Mass.
lonely uma garota ,empty nesters
Seeing needs, they adopted each other.
Her wish to have a date with an American boy.
A friend of my friend fit the bill.
That relationship didn’t last.
but our sisterhood did.
Several decades later
Though physically apart, we are still bounded
in love,
As only sisters can be.
Happy birthday.
Adelia.

carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 9-15-25

Mom Dad Carol Adelia

This day was created in 1966 by The United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization. U.N.E.S.C.O. It’s purpose is to to promote world peace and cooperation a radical idea then and more so now. This year the day is celebrating reading for education worldwide. A yearly event, sponsored by Scholastic, to promote reading aloud in one hundred countries. this year it is a two day event to promote the 60 Th year of literacy days.
In 1966, the literacy levels was under 50%. It is now reported that 86 %of person’s over age 15, can now read and write.
Recent achievements report that 36% of third graders are reading at their grade level. This is lower for populations of different ethic and cultural differences. Children with physical and cognitive disabilities are often overlooked. Sixth and eighth grades literacy levels were reported to closer to grade level.
So the educators cite the increased use of AI programs used to write assignments. Spelling and grammar can be checked and corrected with little thought or learning.
Scores show a wide diversion in some ethic and cultural populations. Students unlearning English as a second language, blindness and hearing can decrease scores on standard test. The blind and low vision populations literacy levels have been reported as low as 10 %, with older blind individuals having the highest illiteracy compared to younger populations. Students are expected to learn braille and English to read and write as a blind student.
Deaf students who learn American Sign Language, a concept centered language. They must learn English syntax and grammar to be literate. This year, the emphasis is on story telling and reading aloud. Lets hope the two day event will promote cooperation and sharing of our stories to foster understanding.
***. poem
Word Play
It starts with babbling of a baby with her mother.
Repeating listening and producing sounds shape vocalizations.
Gestures and eye contact add to the play.
Peek a Boo, and patty cake gives practice .
Rhyming and alliteration brings joy making words.
Soon word chains form communication pathways.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted

In early Chippewa tribe lore, there is a story how the large sand dunes formed on the North west Lake michigan shoreline.
In early days, a mother bear and her two young cubs, raced to escape the flames of a forest fire on the west side of the lake. The small family was chased into the lake by the flames. mother bear urged her cubs to swim in front of her. Soon the two cubs, tired and fell behind. The mother continued to swim while encouraging the cubs to keep going. Within sight of the far shore, the cubs tired and drowned. The mother bear, made it to shore, exhausted, laid down to rest and wait for her cubs. The shape of the large dune is referred to as Sleeping Bear dune by its resemblance to a bear at rest. The two islands of South and North Manitou are said to be the remains of the two drowned cubs. It is said that the mother bear still waits for her lost cubs to return. Native people see attributes of the bear as strength, endurance and courage. Mother bears are fearless when it comes to protecting their young.
When I visited the Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore, I was surprised at the area of the dunes. It is 4 square miles and is bordered by a wall of sand about one hundred feet high. The tallest dune is four hundred feet above the lake shore.
I have climbed down the dune for fifty feet. The steep slope and sliding sand under foot makes the upward climb difficult. It took me 5 minutes to traverse down dune fifty feet and over an hour to climb back to the overlook.
As a child, my husband recalled sliding down to the shore line from the top of the dune. John, gathered smooth rocks to bring to his mother for her rock garden. By the time he returned to the top two hours later, His mother met him with a thermos of water. His t-shirt that held the wrapped stones was ruined from the weight of the stones and the climb.
Winds from the upper lake formed the dunes on the north west shore of the lower peninsula. Composed of light sand, the dunes are moving and growing. The dunes are moved by wind east by three feet each year.

*** poem
Mother bear, protecting cubs.
Fleeing fire, flee to the shore.
Fire behind, Water ahead. Hesitate, then plunge in.
Swim to the other lake side, only to drown insight of land.
Exhausted, the mother bear still waits for her cubs.
Their bodies are seen in the shape of the islands.
She still waits.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 9/1/2025

Sometimes Mother Nature brings new life up close and personal. In a small lilac bush outside my office window, I am a witness to the growth, care and feeding of a family of three baby robins. About three weeks ago, John noticed active nesting activity in the bush leaves hidden except for the parents coming and goings. By the end of the week, the female is sitting on her brood. She doesn’t leave the nest until after chicks are hatched.
We had a hard rain with an inch of rain. The robin hunkered down on her brood keeping them safe and warm. Baby chicks open their eyes after 5 days. The three babies keep their mouths open, ready to receive offered food. The male robin will help to find food. He feeds the mother who regurgitates the food for the chicks.
I can hear the baby’s cheeping signals the return of one of the adult birds. When I walked too close to the bush, the adult robin dove at my head, making much noise. I later learned this warned the chicks to hide deep in the nest for protection.
I am content to listen at the window and get verbal descriptions of the families antics from my husband.
In another week, the oldest of the birds will step outside the nest to teeter on the edge before taking a first flight. The young robins will return to the nest to be fed for another two weeks.
Since this is August, I assume this is the second family for this pair of robins. It is a joy when nature is so close at hand.
The female robin is light gray with light orange breast feathers. This is in contrast to the male’s dark gray body with bright red breast feathers makes him the center of attention. The chicks are are speckled brown and white. Their colored breast feathers will develop as they mature. Until then, I will enjoy the peeping of the family.
***. poem
Family affair
Carry, drop, twigs, leaves.
They labor weaving tight nest.
For summer’s last brood.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 8/25/2025