Breaking bad

That’s Whitney and me from a previous visit to New Orleans. Kids love us in the Big Easy.

As it always goes with school visits, the questions students at the Waldorf School of New Orleans asked after our presentation last Wednesday were the best part of the show. One of the younger girls wondered, “If you can’t see your dog, how can you tell when she’s telling you what she needs?” and an older boy asked “Do you ever get stressed, you know, being blind and everything?” but my favorite question came from a boy who sounded to be ten or eleven years old. “Do you break a lot of stuff?”

I answered that last question with a hearty laugh and an emphatic, ”Yes!” I acknowledged that I should probably only use plastic cups and plates. “But I don’t like the way they feel in my hands, or the way they taste.” This boy’s honest question made me smile, and it gave me an opportunity to share some blind tricks of the trade:

• I use a placemat, and Mike and I are consistent about where we place things on it when setting the table
• I keep my hand on the table top and kind of “spider” my way to a drink rather than reaching across the table for it (and knocking it over)
• I try to always put dirty dishes right in the sink or dishwasher rather than leaving them on the counter where I might knock them over
• I feel inside the cupboard to determine what’s there already before putting clean dishes away
• I have one certain place in my office and the kitchen where I set my coffee cup so I know where to “look” for it again
• If I’m sitting down at a party I’ll often sandwich a drink tightly between my feet rather than risk reaching for it (and spilling it) on an end table

Friends and family accommodate me by setting drinks down loudly enough for me to hear where they are, my Sunday morning book club rings my cup with a spoon so I’ll know where my coffee is, and the bartenders at Hackney’s always serve my drink in a solid pint glass so I’ll know what to expect when I reach for it. I had to admit to the kids that even with all these tricks I still manage to break a lot of stuff. “It makes me sad sometimes, but then I to stop and think, “I shrugged. “It’s just stuff.”

The kids were listening. A few days later a package from the Waldorf School of New Orleans was hand-delivered to thank me for our visit. The kids had bundled an assortment of tiny tubes of fragranced creams and emollients inside, guess what? A new coffee cup. “Just in case…”.