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The end of a (half) Era

  Today is one filled with mixed emotions, concerns and thoughts.  Today, 18th January 2015 is the last working day for my guide dog Vicky.  We have been working together as a qualified team since 18th November 2009, and it has been an amazing 5

So….. Today, this happened !!

Me & Fizz outside EICA

It’s almost 11.00 o’clock, 12 hours after this crazy day started. The climbing arena was nothing like I had ever seen before and no matter how much I had researched and looked at photo after photo I was not prepared for the quarry that I

Maybe I Should have said something before…..

Well, this is something new……. I am sat in the passenger seat of my friends car doing 70+ MPH on the M6 Motorway travelling on my way to Edinburgh; while typing this blog.  My iPad is tethered to my phone for 4G and my voiceover

Another church and The Angel of the North….. Was it a sign?

Round 4 of the Paraclimbing series for 2016, the final in this years competitions, another great location and my chance to shine. Newcastle Climbing Centre is set within the walls of an old church, one that was much larger and steeped in more history than

Who needs a comfort zone anyway?

Its been a while. 2024 threw me some pretty horrid curve balls, I was exhausted; emotionally, mentally and physically.  And I allowed myself to get lost among it all. 2025 has been about making peace with the demons, coping with the new way of doing

Summer showers

I can’t be the only guide dog owner this relates to?  Surely there are more like me?

This is what they call a ‘3rd world problem’

when irs humid and it rains in the summer months, I can but only GET WET!

Yku see. When everyone around me is reaching for the umbrella, I have to make a decision;  do I put on a coat with a hood (which even a lightweight jacket is too hot) or so I get wet?

When I was trained with both Vicky and Fizz, the importance of hand signals with a guide dog were just as important, if not more important that the words I spoke.

I can, just about get away with carrying a bag or pulling a suitcase when I am working my guide dog, nuts en this isn’t easy.

So, when it rains I don’t even carry a umbrella.  Which in the summer mo the means making the decision between sweating in a plastic mac or getting wet.

Most of the time, I choose getting wet!

However, saying that, this summer is different.  This summer I have hearing aids, this summer I have looked at other options, none have been feesable, so now on a day that is set to rain, I am dressed with a jacket, a thin top and the hope that I can dash between places instead of getting stuck in a rain shower.

Like I said, 3rd world problems ….

Can you see me?

A friend asked me yesterday what I saw when I looked at her face in person not by looking at a photo.

We were sat only a coffee table width away from each other, so not far from each other.

As someone who has always had poor sight (although not as bad as it is now) I have no ‘normal’ memories of sight to refer to.

I usually explain it as. I can see the shadow of your eye, but not the colour or even the white in them.  I can see the darker colour of your mouth, but no detail or if you have food in your teeth.

 

But this doesn’t really help.

So, a quick look for an app at that App store and this is what I came up with.


A photograph of my face blurred to look the way I see it.

Can you see me?

A simple question

Watching the Para-athletics, makes me wonder:

Would I be a Climber if I could see?

It’s a simple question; but honestly not one I can answer.

Simply put, it doesn’t matter about ‘can I?’ ‘Would I?’ or even ‘Should I?’ Because I can’t see and I can climb.

My sight & hearing loss has made me who is here today, it’s not about what I can’t do.

it should ALWAYS about what I CAN DO.

Yes I like most have wishes and hopes of things I want to do; but as yet haven’t.  I am also human and long for the day that I can see and I can watch my children playing on the other side of the park.  But, I am a realist and know that there are some hopes and dreams I will never have come true.

But life is for living, something that I can’t do if I sit too long and dwell.

You can be blind and see true beauty

Today a friend asked me a simple question.

why did you say I looked beautiful when I know you can’t see me?

My reply

because true beauty isn’t seen, it’s felt.

It got me thinking though, I quite often tell my girlfriends they are beautiful, gorgeous and pretty; either in person or commenting on Facebook or instagram.  Have they all thought I was ‘just saying it to be nice’ ?

Facebook and instegram afford me the ability to REALLY look at my friends.  By zooming in or magnifying their photographs (which now also makes me sound like a stalker!) I can sit and looking at them, take my time to move around each photograph. (Which now really makes me sound like a crazed stalker! I’m not – but then that is the first thing a stalker WOULD say)

I am not lying when I say they are beautiful, I say they are beautiful because I don’t need to see them, I know them, I know how beautiful they are as a whole person.  They are my friends for many different reasons, they all give away both verbal and non-verbal cues to their beauty.

So, it is a true compliment when I call you beautiful or gorgeous.  It isn’t a lie, it isn’t an empty gesture or  out of habit.

It is the truth.

it also means that my friends have loan of a ‘blind perk’ – they can turn up at my door with no make up on, with a massive boil on the end of their nose and because of what as a blind person I see……. I will still see them as beautiful and gorgeous.

So, next time I pay you a compliment.  Accept it.  For I do truly mean it.

One beep; two beep; three beep; four

Read more

It’s not the reading that’s the issue…..

In a way to improve myself I am undertaking many different forms of learning.  Some is personal development, some is an education and some of it is to support my family.

One such learning is a 10 week parenting puzzle.

It isn’t a course that holds a secret instruction manual to raising children, rather it looks at ways in which as adults we have to dispel our own learnings as a child, to move past it and to understand ourselves better to support our children.

As the weeks have added up, the inner-termole of the course content has began to take an effect.  This teamed with counselling I have been undertaking to support me and help me with my anxieties and depression…… Has been giving me plenty to think about.

It has been commented (not as a critisism, more an observation) that I have become quieter as the weeks have rolled on.  The group I am in are very understanding and supportive towards everyone.

This week we were given an extra book.  “The huge bag of Worries” by Virginia Ironside.  It is a beautifully illustrated children’s book, yet one that is also written for adults too.

As part of our group, those leading us asked if one of us would read the book to the group.

A quick flick through the pages and I heard my voice before my thought had caught up

I’ll read it.

The intakes of breath were audible and noticed by others.  You see, I am an educated woman, I have a passion for reading, it is just my sight that doesn’t always play along!

Being a book to be read to and read by children; the type was larger, clearer and only briefly obscured by the illustrations behind.

I took a deep breathe and began to read.

I enjoyed the book.  I felt myself giving the characters tone and passion as the punctuation implied.

I felt saddened momentarily when it ended.  I closed the book and placed it on my lap.

I felt touched by the story; I felt that the story was so much more than a ‘children’s book’ it meant something.

I had also done something that I hadn’t done for many, many, MANY years.

I had read aloud to people other than my children.

You see, this is not just a little thing.  This is a MASSIVE thing.  I feel anxious reading, not because I dislike it, (far from it) more because I fear that I will miss words, not see them; especially in a children’s book, where the words can wrap around and over the pictures.

For someone who loves to read, yet faces my own worries over the act of reading.  It felt like it was a truly enlightening moment.  One that will hopefully stay with me for many years to come.

I have since ordered my own copy of the book, shared it with friends on Facebook and am looking forward to reading it to my own children.

You see, it isn’t the reading that’s the issue.  It’s the seeing the words.

 

Blindly following Google

When your climbing partner in crime suggest meeting him from work for an evening of climbing, what is a gal to do?

Other than to find out where the closest coffee shop is, and how you can get to it. As it would be an evening of climbing, the ‘have dog will travel’ attitude was altered to ‘have cane will travel’.

Train journey, easy, no problem.

Bus journey, not so easy, but still no problem.

Hedge End (where the CPiC works) has a tiny train station, yet within a short distance there are mammoth superstores of every possible concept. While other coffee places are available, I set my sights on hitting Starbucks, mainly because it has a simple pull up and park location right next to the motorway junction in the direction of Calshot.

Which in fact meant that it had a ‘quirky’ navigation on Google Maps.

The bus stop is placed directly outside the station, the bus was scheduled to tie in with the train arriving. Pure brilliance!

The bus however did not have an audio-visual display. It did have an incredibly friendly and happy to help driver, who ensured me he would notify me of my stop.

So off we went……. And sure enough, the driver true to his word, told me when we had arrived at my stop, he even explained the direction I needed to walk to arrive at Marks and Spencer’s (the major store that afforded its own bus stop!). He also waited until he had ensured I was walking in the right direction before continuing with his journey.

Only; I didn’t want to go the Marks and Spencer’s. I wanted Starbucks. Which as the crow flies is directly opposite Marks and Spencer’s (near enough) Simple enough? the only issue was the great big MASSIVE road known as Charles Watts Way – A334.

And this is where I put my faith in my iPhone and Googled my way!

The directions weren’t straight forward, which made me believe that Google was aware of the size of the road and was walking me a safer way, after all how could it possible take 7 minutes to walk such a short distance (when equating walking time, it doesn’t allow for traffic, as it would if you were driving)

So, ironically. I blindly followed its route……

….. A route that saw me walk through Marks and Spencer’s and out the other side, around the outside of Sainsburys and behind it where a worker was having a sneaky cigarette.

Still my map told me to continue, so onward I went. (I must admit, had it not been a bright afternoon, I may have had other thoughts)

Across a short path and …….. BINGO……

I had found it. The reason why Google maps was telling me it was 7 minutes.

Because in front of me was a rusty cream rail, a thin metal grate on the floor and the key to crossing Charles Watts Way.

It was the ramp, that twisted around in a loose corkscrew before evolving into a long straight path with a slight gradient for several steps, before flattening out and then rising again. It was a bridge.

In the warm sun, the shadows create by the overhanging trees made it hard to make out just how simple and easy it was to navigate.

It was a time to put my trust into my cane, because with the light; the shadows cast and the uncertainty of where I was, I felt apprehensive. I needn’t have; it really was as smooth and easy as I explained it to be.

And before I knew it, I was walking across the top of the bridge, right above all the traffic queuing beneath me. And then I was back into the shadows and the long straight declining path. Turning just once, 180 degrees to walk a similar distance again before coming to a small offset railings, a quick weave and I was on the path beside that very same traffic that I had just walked over. (I didn’t hear it moving!)

A short distance ahead and I could feel the path changing, this time it was much smoother, yet paved, not tarmac as it had previously been. I couldn’t home in on much, because although the trees were cut back, their shadows were replaced by bright glaring sun.

Faithful cane soon told me I was reaching a curb edge, the tactile paving soon enabled me to place myself in the right direction, a small road across the car park and low and behold…….

 

…………Starbucks.

Fearful times

Last year I was very lucky to be able to attend several gigs, and pretty gigs at that; with Adele, Muse, Red Hot Chilli Peppers and even Placebo.  All of these took place in London, a capital known for its security and safety record.

Several weeks ago, a terrorist targeted a Manchester gig.  Men, women and even children were caught up in this horrid act that resulted in 22 deaths and many many more suffering.

I am not here to talk about the attack, nor the group behind it, this is not a political post…… I am going to talk about the fear that this has left me with.

I am in fear of this happening at a gig I go to.

I am in fear of putting my friends in danger, because of the additional support they afford me.

I am in fear or letting this fear stop me.

Followng on from the Manchester attack, London saw a savage attack just last weekend.  Where a van, usually placed on any street in the country was used to mount the curb and drive into Londoners who had been out enjoying a Saturday evening.

My next gig is in London in just a few weeks.  It’s on a Saturday.  It’s also at venue I have never been before.  By the nature of a gig, one especially that is SOLD OUT.  There will be an increase security presents to enable ease of movement for gig goers arriving and leaving, especially with additional support in the nearby tube and railway stations.  I am also aware that many concrete barriers have been erected around London at key locations, such as The Bridges that cross The Thames to make it more difficult for a vehicle to be used as a terror weapon.

In wake of the terror attacks, plenty of advice has been given on RUN. HIDE. TELL.  This is the bit I fear.  What saved many people in both of these attacks was the ability for them to see the danger, see an escape route and to see those who needed help.

So, how do I cope in such a situation without the ability to see?

I can run, and especially if it were needed I would do this, but which way do I run?  The fear in all of this isn’t for me.  The fear in all of this is for my guiding girl Fizz and my friends.

I know that they would never leave me, but what if by helping me they are put into the way of danger?

What if me being with a guide dog appears as an easy target?

All these questions and fears are building up.

I don’t think I would ever have the answers, but in writing my blog I hope to ease my own fears and ease the fears of those around me.

Not even a trained firearms officer can say how they will cope or how they would deal with being involved in such an attack.  As no amount of training can say how you would deal with human nature and the flight or flee reaction.

My friends will walk with me and support me in the same way that they have in the past.  My vulnerability will also stand out to our police men and women and other security forces.

Some of my fellow friends with both hearing and visual impairments have said that they have felt additional support has been afforded to them especially in London since the weekend.

I am not going to make this blog about the terrorist that committed these crimes.  Because after all the whole reasoning for many acts of terrorism is to divide and terrorise people.  And iconically both Manchester and London have actually ‘come together’ supported each other and shown just how great they are as a whole at supporting those who need the support.

So, I have told you my fears, I have explained them, I am not able to completely dismiss them, but I am able to understand them.  I am able to know that they will not stop me from going to London, or any other city for that matter.

I may just make sure more so than usual that my phone is charged and my additional battery pack is also charged.

 

A Sprinkle of Magical Pixie Dust

As a parent myself, I thought hard about the names I gave my children, their father had his opinions.  We went through baby books, baby names and even google to help us choose.

My parents, named me Theresa-Claire, as the second born I was afforded a middle name where my sister Samantha wasn’t.  I was also afforded the same initials as my father; Trevor Clive.  Was it hoped that I would be TC Jr?

I am not in a position to ask these questions.  I am however able to tell you how, for as long as I can remember I was called many alternatives to my actual name.

These included ‘Top Cat’ – ‘TC’ – ‘Tessa’ – ‘Tuppence’ and for the majority of my adult life ‘Tee’

When I married I took my husbands surname, when we separated and then divorced to revert to my maiden name would have cost me the fee of a deed poll.  So, with my new partner I chose to double barrel his surname on the end of mine.

Becoming Osborne-Bell.

I had never liked my married name, I never made any secret of this.  Despite my daughter having my ex-husbands name, I couldn’t and didn’t want to keep it and as we were married when she was born, Osborne never formed part of her name as it has my sons.

Families have their differences, arguments and even irreversible consequences.  But I am not prepared to denounce any of my ‘chosen’ name.

But I have found a new ‘nickname’ off the back of it.

Dropping Osborne-Bell to O-Bell.  And altering Tee to Tink.  And now I am my very own magical, mythical pixie Tink-O-Bell.

Known often just as Tink !

In this past year I have been improving myself, admittedly half-heartedly with the support of my coach and cousin Charlie.  I have been working on creating the best version of me.  Loosing weight, improving my nutrition and sports performance through the use of Herbalife Shakes, supplements and products.

And this is where my name is key; for my favourite example of Tinkerbell isn’t in PeterPan, it is in Moulin Rouge (played by the singer Kylie) where she is the little green absinthe fairy.  Full of fun.

I am now looking to take my involvement with Herbalife further, I am now looking to use my own product result and increased energy with Herbalife to the next step.

….. That’s a whole other chapter that is only just beginning !!

But either way, it is with this involvement of the colour green that I am going to truly become my own version of Tink-O-Bell !!

This is a WHOLE other challenge (Pretty awesome though)

So, in recent months I have conquered a Cheese-grater, climber my arse off and began to face many of my demons.  But none of these, or even all the climbing competitions I took part in last year compared to this mornings events.

Having told you all about my change of volunteer role in Scouting I did what anyone would do; in preparation for an upcoming weekend.

I bought a tent!

I had previously gone to a large outdoors shop with a friend and had a good look at all they had on show, I fell in love with a canvas Tippee.  However at just under £800 it wasn’t going to be for me at the moment.  I was able to walk among various sizes and layouts.  But as with everything, budget was my biggest factor.

I had a check list:

  1.  To have a separate bedroom area.
  2.  To be able to stand up in (although a little crouched was ok)
  3.  Have windows.
  4.  Have a black out bedroom area.

And with all this, and the wise words of a good friend who had bought many a tent.  I bought one I felt fit the bill.

I bought a Vango Beta 450 XL in blue.

It arrived yesterday, sat in its box and making me itch with excitement.  The rational in me thought I should wait until I had a friend over to help me, however the ‘kid in a candy store’ won out.

And I set about putting it up!

After all, it had an assembly guide of 15 minutes.  How difficult could it REALLY be?

Well………..

For a start, it took AN HOUR.

Oh and it was a tad bigger than my garden.

Also, with my garden being totally laid in patio, I wasn’t able to fully ‘pitch’ it.  Although with a helping hand of my garden furniture and a few plant pots, I got pretty close!

I had watchful eyes in both Vicky and Fizz who seemed quite amused at times by my antics.  They both had a thorough explore of it; both in its flat form and in its ‘pitched’ form.

I photographed my progress just for you.

Image shows ground sheet laid out on garden patio

In the beginning there was just a ground sheet and a flat tent.

Image of the outer tent laid out flat on the patio ready to assemble

And the instruction…..

3 poles, colour coded for ease with 1 pole longer than the other 2.

3 poles …. Check

colohr coded ….. check; if you count 2 being totally black and 1 having a grey section amongst the black colour?

1 longer than the other 2 …. Ummmm. Nope! 1 shorter (grey section) than the other 2 (totally black)

Maybe I should have stopped at that point.  But given it was all out of the bag, no harm in carrying on.

So following the colour coding; or rather tiny little black or gray tabs of material on the end of the pole sleeve that I hoped was what the instructions were referring too, I carried on.

It wasn’t a easy as it should have been, not having the space to walk around the outside of the tent, it involves climbing over my garden wall (pictured about, it’s about 3f)

I also had to negotiate the poles with the shed and fence as fully extended they where pretty long (even the short one!)

And then came my garden furniture. With the help of a garden chair, a bench and some plant pots I was able to semi-secure the tent in place.

Image shows front quarter angle of erect tent with flower pots holding it in place with the side door open

Image shows side view of tent with door panel open, against the low garden wall and with Guide Dog Fizz looking inside

It was perfect!

The guide ropes and zip toggles are all light blue, there are tension bands on the inside and it has a ‘lip’ to save the weather getting in, should it be wet.

And the added bonus is that I only have to duck my head ever so slightly to move around.

It was hot, it was tricky; but oh wow it was fun!  And I did it all by myself. I was bursting with pride, I sent the photos to a friend with the simple of caption

Look what I just did, not bad considering, am knackered now.

Woth the guide time of 15 minutes, with the advisory that first pitch may take slightly longer, I was happy when I discovered it took me and hour.  Some people may not feel that is something to be proud of, but for someone who has never pitched a tenth before, who has considerably limited vision and who has no help either with reading the instructions or pointing out where the pole sleeves were…… I am totally amazed and proud with my achievement.

…… Now to take it down!

In comparison that took 30 minutes, it was a simple reverse of the pitch.  I folded and rolled my tent, then the ground sheet and even managed to get it all back in the bag!  It wasn’t quite as pretty as when I took it out, but with a quick sitting on to help remove the air.  It was done and ready to put away for camping later next month.

Image shows tent bag with tent inside sat out in the garden on patio.

Now to see how long it takes to pitch in a field !!

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