Misc. elaborations: uproarious parlor games; incipient blindness; cookies

[rivka]

Uproarious parlor games
We're not a family that usually plays parlor games, but between them my brother Steve and my sister Juanita decided it was time for that to change.

So we played Dictionary, which I understand is also sold as a packaged game called Balderdash. One person chose an unfamiliar word from the dictionary (usually after a few false starts met with a chorus of "No, I know that word."), and everyone wrote down an invented definition. The invented definitions were read out loud along with the real definition, and we each voted for the one we thought was real. You got a point for guessing the right one and a point for every person you seduced with your false definition, but we didn't keep very close track of points - we were just playing for the fun of the definitions.

And we played Saint Peter, Saint Paul, a don't-break-the-rhythm clapping game my brother learned in Boy Scouts. We sat in a semi-circle. The person at the top was designated St. Peter, the next St. Paul, the next St. John, the next Number One, and so on until the last person, who had no name and sat in the spot designated as Hell. We clapped at a slowly-increasing pace, and each person said, in turn - and to the beat - their own name and the name of someone else. "St. Peter, St. Paul." "St. Paul, Number One." "Number One, St. John." If you missed a beat or said the wrong name, you were sent to Hell, and everyone below you moved up one chair - and one name. I don't know what it says about us that there were lots and lots of mistakes.

And we played, God help me, The Quacking Game. One person went out of the room, and the rest decided on an action for that person to perform - anything from touching the Christmas tree (my seven-year-old niece) to singing "The Star-Spangled Banner" (my brother) to taking off curiousangel's socks (me). When the person came back into the room, everyone else began quacking softly. They tried to guess the action they were supposed to perform, with their only feedback being changes in the volume and frequency of our quacking. It turns out that, as a family, we're surprisingly good at shaping.

Incipient blindness
My father's going blind. He has macular degeneration. It was diagnosed more than ten years ago, when the only sign was a tiny blind spot he needed a special grid to identify. This year he gave up driving, watching movies, and reading books and newspapers. Apparently, once you're on the downhill slope it progresses pretty quickly.

We gave him the audio version of Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, which he absolutely adored. He got some other books on CD from my mother, and a nifty battery-powered gadget that slips over the rim of a cup and vibrates when the liquid nears the top, and a tiny powerful light that we're hoping will help him be able to read choir music for a little while longer, and some big high-contrast labels for his computer keys.

Until now, he's been so closed-off and quiet about his poor vision that it's been hard to keep it in mind.

This was the Christmas of Dad Can't Do That Anymore.

Cookies
Six kinds of Christmas cookies, which I suppose is on the low side of normal. My mother baked snickerdoodles and refrigerator nut cookies, using the same recipes I did for our party. She also made nut-free refrigerator nut cookies for my sister Debbie, who doesn't like nuts, and spritz cookies from the cookie press, dyed green and in the shape of little Christmas trees. These are the traditional Christmas cookies I've had every year of my life. It would hardly be Christmas without them.

My sister-in-law's mother sent a tin full of buckeyes, which are peanut butter balls dipped most of the way into chocolate to look like buckeyes (horse chestnuts). Fortunately, I seemed to be one of the only people there who was fond of buckeyes - so I got to eat a lot of them. And last but not least, my sister Juanita made rolled sugar cookies topped with vanilla icing and red-and-green sprinkles in holiday shapes. (Both the cookies and the sprinkles, I fear, were in holiday shapes.) They were incredibly tasty and had to be rationed out.

And these were just the cookies, you understand. There was also a pecan pie, and a chocolate cake, and cheesecake, and a six-tiered gift assortment of high-quality chocolates from my mother's boss, and candy canes. There was supposed to be an apple-cranberry pie as well, but at the last minute my mother decided she didn't have the time. Alas.

I also told hobbitbabe that I would elaborate on the proof that my parents should've switched churches before now, but that will have to come later.

Comments

[pixel.livejournal.com]

"If he has not already, your father should get connected with the National Federation for hte Blind (abbreviated almost always as NFB). My father (who also had Macular Degeneration) was a member and occasionally held office locally.
They have a *huge* library of books on 4-track tapes, which they lend out for free. They also provide the cassette players to play them. They can even send cassettes of the catalogues of books as well.
They also provide all sorts of other services/equipment/etc. I know they helped my dad out a lot."

[nolly.livejournal.com]

My mother also makes green cookie press Christmas trees every year. Hers have a bit of almond flavoring.

Is your father's macular degeneration wet or dry? My paternal grandfather had the dry variety.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

Dry, unfortunately. There are promising treatments for wet macular degeneration, but with the dry form there's not much you can do besides hope that large doses of antioxidants will slow down the disease progression.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

He might be ready for that now, if he's using this other equipment. Until recently he's been reluctant to use any adaptive tech, or to get any books on tape/CD not available from the local library or bookstore - I think the mental barrier to having special things for the blind was just more than he could stand. But that will obviously have to change, and it looks like he's beginning to accept it.

Serendipity

[kightp.livejournal.com]

I had a small gathering last night for a friend who now lives in San Diego and was up for the holidays. We played Dictionary - and someone brought green, tree-shaped spritz cookies, which I haven't had in *years*. (They go amazingly well with Obsidian Stout, BTW ...)

[wiredferret.livejournal.com]

Three years ago, driving with my father became a terrifying experience. His monitor was cranked to unreal levels of size and contrast. He was reading exclusively large-print books.

Luckily for all of us, he just had cataracts, which were easily repaired, but I remember having to sit and think about all the things he loves that involve reading and eyesight.

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

I'm a "Buckeyes" fan but not a fan of the peanut butter variety, so you could have mine if I had any.

With books on CD, is it easy to find the place you stopped?

There was a while there when we played a lot of Balderdash/ Dictionary. Sometimes we also play Balderdash-Scrabble, which means Scrabble but you can have any word that you can convince people is real or entertaining enough that it should be real.

Peggy's father had macular degeneration quite early in his life.

[geekymary.livejournal.com]

Buckeyes are cookies that come straight from God.

Especially with a big glass of milk or tea.

Mmmmmm....

[tikva.livejournal.com]

Your dad might well benefit from a CCTV, a closed caption television. Basically, they consist of a monitor, a platform, and a camera. Printed material is placed on the platform, and the camera projects an enlarged image of the material onto the monitor. I have one, and they're quite useful. They're not cheap, but sometimes one can get one used.

As for movies, the National Center for Accessible Media has come up with video description, which is sort of like captioning for blind people (for lack of a better analogy). A secondary audio channel is used to describe what's going on visually on the screen during a movie, TV show, or other multimedia presentation. It's not nearly as common as captioning, but if you go to the NCAM site and look under MoPix, you can see which theatres in a given area show which movies with video description.

Sometimes, local organizations for the blind provide phone numbers one can call to hear the local newspaper read out loud. Those are disappearing lately, due to the Internet and reduced funding, but your father's area may have one.

pixel's recommendation re: the NFB is a good one, although the NFB has political issues that put me at serious odds with them. However, they can be an excellent resource for the newly visually impaired. The American Council for the Blind, the Lighthouse, and other blindness organizations can be helpful as well.

Good luck, and let me know if I can be of any more assistance. "Dad can't do that anymore" isn't necessarily the case - it may just be "Dad has to do that differently now".

[ranunculus.livejournal.com]

It sounds like you all had a great time! I especially like " game!

I -just- read an article about the Alaska Center for th Blind and Visually Impaired. The article was in my Woodworkers Journal magazine, because one of their programs is woodworking for the blind. Hey, if people can successfully do woodworking blind, then they can do almost anything.

On another note, my partner Donald is legaly blind. He wears thick glasses, and can still see his monitor well enough to write. On the other hand, increasinly I need to remember that it isn't his fault when things go overlooked.

[pixel.livejournal.com]

"While I understand your father's reluctance on an intelectual level. On another level it slightly baffles me.
The reason is that the entire time I was growing up my father was listening to books on tape. Pretty much no matter what other project he was working on around the house, the tape play was droning on in the background. As a result he was *incredibly* well read on a variety of subjects, and furthermore managed ot get in more reading timethan I did because he could be wokring on something else while reading rather than having to pay attention to only the bok in front of him as I did.
I still have fond memories of him and I reading the biography of Lee Iacoca(sp?) while re-cementing one of the basement walls."

[rivka.livejournal.com]

Good luck, and let me know if I can be of any more assistance. "Dad can't do that anymore" isn't necessarily the case - it may just be "Dad has to do that differently now".

What Dad really can't do anymore is pretend that he's not visually impaired and doesn't have to make any adjustments to his life. I am aware that blind people can do just about anything with the proper accomodations - but he's going to have to get used to the accomodations part now, and that's what he's been resistant about.