Thought Wheel

Ann Chiappetta

APH Career Conversations podcast Join the presentation 🎙️

| Filed under blindness blogging Guide dogs writing

Save the Date

📖   📚

 

Join the APH Career Conversation with Ann Chiappetta

April 6, 2023, 6:00 – 7:00 PM EST
Career Conversations Interview with an Author 

Ann Chiappetta will share what it has been like for her to self-publish her poetry, fiction and nonfiction books. Ann has delt with changing vision as a result of retinitis pigmentosa and has used writing and her creative skills to help cope with her vision loss.

Register Here for Career Conversations Interview with an Author

 Read about Ann on the APH blog:

Annie with pink mask and Bailey close up

Ann and Bailey on bench: Both looking straight on

 

The print Barrier Continued

| Filed under writing

Thanks to friend and fellow author, Patty Fletcher, what began as my personal rant about the accessibility divide  is gaining attention. Please visit her blog and read, like, and pass along  what will  be a series of  informational, lived experiential accounts of the print barrier and how it effects people with print disabilities interacting with all digital and electronic resources like the internet, smart phones and tablets and  how developers and the general public can help with making these barriers a thing of the past.

https://pattysworlds.com/the-print-barrier-by-author-and-multimedia-specialist-ann-chiappetta-accessibility-assistivetechnology/

 

by Ann Chiappetta | tags : | 0

Book Review Honoring the Legacy of Friend and Author Chris Kuell

| Filed under blindness Fiction reviews

Book Review

By Ann Chiappetta

 

Morris

By Chris Kuell  © November 2022

Fiction; Short Stories

Atmosphere Press https://atmospherepress.com/books/morris-by-chris-kuell/

Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/Morris-Chris-Kuell/dp/163988677X

Kindle$7.99 softcover $15.99 302 pp.

From the publisher

A wounded Vietnam veteran builds a guitar as a first step toward rebuilding his life. A young man is ejected from the foster system and hitchhikes his way across America in search of that elusive feeling of home. An unsatisfied twenty-something questions her relationships and imagines other possibilities. A single father struggles to come to terms with his daughter’s growing up. A street musician touches people with her words and her music.

Morris by Chris Kuell is a collection of fourteen powerful stories brimming with evocative landscapes and memorable characters. Navigating desire, despair, healing, and love—the residents of this collection are all searching to better understand themselves. Woven together through the universal thread of music, these stories, witnessed by a well-worn guitar, expose insecurities and highlight the power of endurance and personal transformation.

***

Full disclosure, Chris Kuell, the author, and I have been friends for over twenty years. We first met in a critique group.  Shortly afterward, Chris gained the position as editor-in-chief of the online literary magazine, Breath and Shadow and he invited me to assist in fencing submissions.  Needless to say, we’ve witnessed one another grow into our authorly legs, stretched a few inches  creatively since we first met. After reading Morris and being  captivated  by the breadth and depth of the stories,  I’ve got to admit a bit of the fan girl thing developing. I think it is because of the play list introducing each story. The nostalgic value  of the songs and song lyrics should not be overlooked. Each song attaches a specific emotion to each story and enhances the  theatric backdrop of the stories in this collection.

 

While each story in Kuell’s Morris is a stand-alone piece, the author presents an appealing  literary repast.  This book is an experience of relationships and life’s vicissitudes. What I loved about the book were the realistic interpersonal connections and how  the characters were influenced by either positive or negative circumstances. Each story touched a part of what it means to be human, to feel, love, care, hope and suffer. For example, how sweet or misunderstood a kiss can be, how good intentions are overcome by remorselessness and violence, or how bias and bigotry can escalate  into devaluing a human life.  Some stories ended tragically and some ended ambiguously, each one  resonated. Like a superb meal at a favorite restaurant, I reflected upon them for days. A creative piece  with longevity is a great accomplishment and Chris  Kuell’s book will stick to your soul and speak to your heart.

Rating ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Reader’s Note: On February 21, 2023, Chris died from complications resulting from cancer. He was sixty years old.  His obituary follows:

Christopher S. Kuell

June 14, 1962, ~ February 21, 2023 (age 60)

Christopher Kuell passed away on Tuesday, February 21st, 2023, at 60 years of age. He died in his home, surrounded by family members and love.

Chris led such a unique and interesting life that it is impossible to represent him in a few short paragraphs. He was born in 1962 in Salem, Massachusetts to Paul and Diana Kuell, one of six children. He was a brilliant and hardworking man, earning his Ph. D. in Chemistry from the University of Vermont in 1990 and working as a research scientist with Ciba Geigy before losing his sight at the age of thirty-five. Although becoming blind due to diabetes completely changed his life, Chris applied his brilliant mind, iron will, and open heart to building a new, beautiful, and independent life. He learned to cook, to travel, to play guitar,  to shop, to play board games, and anything else a sighted person could do.  He became involved with the National Federation of the Blind, attending and leading events, and collaborating with other blind and visually impaired people to make the world a better place for people with disabilities. He also began writing, publishing articles about life as a newly blind person and blind father, which ignited a passion for the written word that motivated him for the rest of his life. Five years after losing his sight, another major health complication threatened this newly built life.  However, his brother David’s decision to donate a kidney to Chris in 2002 saved him. Sadly, David passed away in 2013, but his gift allowed Chris to live another 21 years.

When his children were young, Chris dedicated himself to his family – cooking dinner, quizzing his children Nicholas and Grace on multiplication tables while they were in the bathtub, and listening to bedtime books-on-tape at night.  As the kids went off to college, Chris pursued a host of other passions. He applied his Chemistry degree to brewing delicious “Blind Wino” brand wine.  He began editing Breath and Shadow, a literary magazine dedicated to publishing authors with disabilities.  He helped run a monthly book club for friends and members of his community.  With his fellow parishioners at Saint James’ Episcopal Church, he prepared food and washed dishes for Dorothy Day, our local soup kitchen. His most recent labor of love was publishing his book, Morris, just a few short months ago. If you want to know something about who Chris was, what he valued, or how he saw the world, you’re in luck – he put his heart and soul into Morris and left it for us to read and re-read whenever we need to be close to him.

Chris was an exceptional man who will be remembered as the blind guy who walked his kids back and forth to elementary school, a faithful and dedicated member of St. James’ Church, a fierce advocate for the disabled, marginalized, and disenfranchised. He will be remembered for his quick wit, his passion, his sense of humor. Those who survive him will miss him immensely: his wife, Christine DiMeglio; his children, Grace Kuell, Nicholas Kuell, and daughter-in-law Alexis Willoughby; his siblings: Cathy and Kenny Halchak, Sandra Kuell, Michael Kuell and Jenn Cobb,  Jon Kuell and Maureen Buckley; his soul siblings: Tammy Kuell, Lisa Patey, Mike DiMeglio, Scott Kiem; his gang of admiring nieces and nephews.

To know him was to laugh with him, think with him, lean on him knowing he would always be there, to cry with him, ask his advice, pray with him, talk books or sports or – if you were brave – politics with him. Chris radiated love – love for life, and love for those lucky enough to know him. He will be missed by countless people and in a myriad of ways.  We are forever grateful for the gift of knowing Chris Kuell, and for knowing that this wonderful man is now at peace.

A service celebrating the life of Chris Kuell was held on March 11, at 11 am, at Saint James’ Episcopal Church, 25 West Street in Danbury CT 06810.

In lieu gifts of any kind, consider a tax-deductible contribution to Resources for Organizing Social Change (ROSC, PO Box 2444, Augusta, ME 04338-2444), the parent organization for Breath & Shadow, a quarterly journal of disability culture and literature, where Chris served as editor-in-chief. Include a note with the check that your donation is for Breath & Shadow in memory of Chris Kuell. ROSC is a public 501(c)3 charity.

Please share this post and ask friends to support this author’s legacy in the form of a wonderfully written book.

photo of well worn acoustic guitar

 

He’s Home! He’s Home! 🦮

| Filed under Guide dogs pets and people

 

After  two days in the hospital, Bailey is home and resting.  It has been  a stressful two weeks. Once we got the diagnosis and scheduled the surgery for a carcinoma in his lung,  Jerry and I  were in a kind of shell shock. Hoping for the best, ignoring the worst-case scenario.

 

The medical staff at Animal Medical Center in NYC is phenomenal. We are still waiting for a full prognosis  because the pathology takes at least a week but it is looking like pulmonary  carcinoma. One entire lobe was removed, so the guy has only half a lung on one side. He went into all this in good shape  despite the tumor and this has everything to do with   a good recovery and getting back to work. Not sure working again will be in his future but time and rest will  help the healing and no matter what happens,  there is relief for what was ailing him for so long. His quality of life has been given back to him and for this we are grateful.

 

If you want to donate to  the medical center and help support  them in treating  animals and educating future generations of veterinary  physicians and treatments for diseases like cancer ,  and caring for guide and service dogs, we would  appreciate it. There was no cost to us because Bailey is a working guide dog.

 

He is resting in the kennel on  his squish mellow and seems comfortable. The first thing he wanted to do  once we got home was eat. What a good boy!

 

 

by Ann Chiappetta | tags : | 0

A DNR for My Dog Guide? 😨🦮

| Filed under blindness Guide dogs pets and people Relationships

Whoa, pups and people, first of all, this is not a shock jock kind of post. It is my attempt to express the feelings and observations during the events of the past three weeks. We are all okay, so it is safe to keep reading.

🦮

Bailey, my 75 lb. yellow lab raised and trained by Guiding Eyes for the Blind, was diagnosed with a tumor in his lung. It was discovered in a routine vet visit and I am so grateful for the  staff veterinarian at Guiding Eyes for  listening to me and ordering the Xray and referring us to Animal Medical Center in New York City for  a CT and needle biopsy confirming the diagnosis.

 

We are now waiting for the surgery date  to remove it. During the examination of the CT scan/biopsy procedure authorization, I read the DNR clause. It said CPR would be administered unless directed otherwise by the owner. Of course I wanted lifesaving procedures to be performed, my dog  is showing very little symptoms and isn’t ready to check out.

 

I stopped, thinking, OH, shoot, a DNR? And it hit me just how serious this was and  how sick my sweet 9.7-year-old lab really is. He showed only a mild cough after playing and slowing down a little when we were out and about. I’m not sure why but  Bailey’s diagnosis brought me back to our Mom’s lung cancer and the mind-numbing period of time during her surgeries and treatments. Because of the consultations and  speaking with medical oncologists during our Mom’s illness, I believe I have a better grasp of Bailey’s chances and risk factors. I am not saying a dog is the same as a person, but I am thinking that Mom’s passing provided insight and strength for me and my husband to be better equipped to handle whatever comes after Bailey’s upcoming surgery and convalescence. Then again, maybe I am saying a life is worth fighting for, human or non-human.  Mom did not differentiate among two or four-footed family, and neither will I.

yellow lab Bailey in our livingroom

 

 

 

 

Remembering Verona 2006 – 2020  🦮

| Filed under Guide dogs pets and people Relationships

 

It’s January, a month of memories.  I look back upon those who have died and I also look forward to keeping them close to my heart through recalling the special times we’ve shared together. My Dad, Bob, and his being a neat freak and a talented carpenter and mechanic and lover of nature. I also recall my mother-in-law, Carol and  the way she loved my kids and feeling blessed I survived her erratic  driving and feeling relieved  I did not have to see  the close calls because I am blind. 😓😱 .

 

Although we lost both my Dad and Carol in successive January  dates, both on the sixteenth of the month, I want to also celebrate the life of another family member, my first guide dog.

 

In  January 2009 I met and trained with my first guide dog, Verona and this post is being written and shared to honor her life. I am fortunate to be part of the Guiding Eyes graduate community and because of it I take part in  occasional grief and bereavement  Zoom meetings.  We share how much our dogs mean to us, the bond  of trust and love and how much they mean to us even after they die. I always feel better after one of these meetings because I spent the time with other handlers who understand the lifetime bond developed with these incredible dogs and the indelible  imprint they have upon our hearts.

 

Here is one of my favorite stories about Verona, a sweet sixty lb. black lab. My husband, Jerry, took over her care and handling once I retired her and submitted my application for a successor dog. She was seven years old and  full of energy but she developed  cysts in her eyes and it began effecting her ability to guide me. One day Jerry took her upstate     during turkey hunting season. She was a great field dog and not a bit gun shy. He set up the blind, telling Verona to lay down. He soon shot the turkey and  got out of the blind, saying “Let’s go get it!” and Verona ran out of the blind and ran for the turkey,  grabbing it’s neck.  He asked her to let go and she did but  kept trying to grab it. After he called me and told me the story, I laughed and   between giggles, said, “Well,  you told her to go get it and she’s a lab, what did you expect?”

 

Verona lived a great life, succumbing to old age in February 2020 at age 14.  I could not have had a better first guide dog and  since  walking our first  route together I haven’t  looked back. Thanks, sweet girl for being able to give me back my independence.

If you want to read more about our adventures, pick up my memoir,

Follow Your Dog a Story of Love and Trust .

 

close up of Black lab with snow sprinkled on her nose and head. She is looking at the camera with large, brown inquisitive eyes.

close up of Black lab with snow on her face

January 2023 Annie Shares News V.3 I. 1

| Filed under blindness blogging writing

Annie Shares News January 2023  Volume 3 Issue 1

Anniesharesnews+subscribe@groups.io

www.annchiappetta.com

2023 greetings! 🥳 🎉

2022 has been challenging and it’s great to be stepping out more, giving and receiving a hug from friends and colleagues once again. Society has endured and learned how to cope with the physical limitations  associated with the pandemic and while we are still being effected by covid,  we are adjusting. To hug or not to hug, that is the question.

 

One mask-wearing phenomenon I’d like to share is the increased level of general disorientation when wearing one.  And it isn’t just me experiencing this weird reaction. Whenever I first put on a mask, it causes  me to feel dizzy and like I am in a bubble. I can’t hear or rely on my sense of direction, which is usually good.  The spatial awareness is the worst and I have spoken with other blind friends who have experienced a similar  lack of sensory information from mask wearing. I tried a clear face shield and it was even worse.   I hope this is something we can research more to help others.

 

I want to share some good news about a friend and colleague, Elizabeth Ianelli. She and I worked together and remained friends after we both left the VA. She is one of the most resilient people I know and I am pleased to share the advanced ordering link to her new gritty and powerful book about the troubled teen industry called I See You Survivor: Life inside (and outside) the totally f*****d up troubled-teen industry.

 

Another author I know, Trish Hubschman,  has released her newest book, check it out:

Gayle’s Tales: Tracy Gayle Mysteries

by Trish Hubschman

Copyright December  2022

The book is for sale from Smashwords in eBook formats and from Amazon in e-book ($3.99), paperback ($8.50), and hardcover ($16.50).

175 pages in print.

 

Full details of this book and Trish’s four Tracy Gayle mystery novels are on her website:

https://www.dldbooks.com/hubschman/

 

Synopsis:

 

Gayle’s Tales is a collection of Tracy Gayle mystery short stories.

 

Everyone’s favorite couple, Tracy and Danny, are still going strong, romantically and professionally, rocking and rolling and solving crimes. The story  is a first-person account  told in Tracy’s point-of-view, detailing the circumstances as only she can tell it. Through all this, she and Danny are planning their wedding extravaganza at the Plaza Hotel in New York. In the end, she brings long–lost family members and friends back into each other’s arms and lives.

Trish is also appearing on January  25 at 7:00 p.m. eastern time as a guest author hosted by the Behind Our Eyes Book Launch program via zoom. If you would like the Zoom invitation, email booklaunch@behindoureyes.org and make sure you mention  it is for Trish’s book.

 

What’s in store for 2023? Writing, of course! 😉  I am working on a nonfiction  book about pet assisted therapy, gathering a third poetry collection, and writing a new  crossover novel plus a new chapter of a sci-fi novella. I am reading different genres of books, including an RPG-inspired   series  penned by Kevin Sinclair, a series by Andrew Rowe narrated by one of my favorite voice actors, Nick Podell and Marshal Arcane  by Terry Mancour is waiting in the queue. I also read The Address by Fiona Davis for my local book club. Very good historical fiction/mystery novel. I also must recommend The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving. The audio book is performed by a talented voice actor and it is  better than Irving’s book, The World According to Garp. It’s brilliant.

 

Reading is a considerable piece of developing as a writer and I plan to continue the quest. 😈

Until next month, be well and blessings to all.

Enjoy this classic poem about the New Year by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

The Death of the Old Year

 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,

And the winter winds are wearily sighing:

Toll ye the church bell sad and slow,

And tread softly and speak low,

For the old year lies a-dying.

Old year you must not die;

You came to us so readily,

You lived with us so steadily,

Old year, you shall not die.

He lieth still: he doth not move:

He will not see the dawn of day.

He hath no other life above.

He gave me a friend and a true truelove

And the New-year will take ’em away.

Old year you must not go;

So long you have been with us,

Such joy as you have seen with us,

Old year, you shall not go.

He froth’d his bumpers to the brim;

A jollier year we shall not see.

But tho’ his eyes are waxing dim,

And tho’ his foes speak ill of him,

He was a friend to me.

Old year, you shall not die;

We did so laugh and cry with you,

I’ve half a mind to die with you,

Old year, if you must die.

He was full of joke and jest,

But all his merry quips are o’er.

To see him die across the waste

His son and heir doth ride post-haste,

But he’ll be dead before.

Everyone for his own.

The night is starry and cold, my friend,

And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend,

Comes up to take his own.

How hard he breathes! over the snow

I heard just now the crowing cock.

The shadows flicker to and fro:

The cricket chirps: the light burns low:

’Tis nearly twelve o’clock.

Shake hands, before you die.

Old year, we’ll dearly rue for you:

What is it we can do for you?

Speak out before you die.

His face is growing sharp and thin.

Alack! our friend is gone,

Close up his eyes: tie up his chin:

Step from the corpse, and let him in

That standeth there alone,

And waiteth at the door.

There’s a new foot on the floor, my friend,

And a new face at the door, my friend,

A new face at the door.

 

 

This poem is in the public domain.

Dreya sends her best wishes for the New Year!

Dreya the book dragon is smiling and floating around with her best friends, books and musical notes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

💗 What to Love about a Human’s Best Friend 💗 🦴 🐕 

| Filed under blogging Guide dogs pets and people

 

After raising two kids and doing the parent thing with the pediatrician for all those years, I thought my husband might like helping out with our pets once in a while. I am proud to say Jerry has become a wonderful pet parent and takes our pet dog, May to all her appointments. We adopted her  in  2020 and love her sweet and sassy personality. She is smart,  protective but not territorial, and solves problems  quickly and efficiently, just like a good German Shepard should. While she has a bit of Rottweiler , as proven by a DNA test, she’s  got  a GSD body type  and traits  and the only part missing is pointy ears. She has derpy ones that flop over and stick out perpendicular to her head.  Do not let this fool you.

 

At first we house trained her, which took a few months. She was already crate trained.  It took a while for her bladder to mature.  She learned how to unlock the metal safety gate, you know the child-safety ones with the lock cover and the sliding , recessed latch?

 

My yellow lab guide dog, Bailey and May love one another, play together and love to share space, which is good. She also  loves our cats. She does poke and play with them but  taps down the chasing and while this took some time,  the darned cats like to be chased, so we gave up trying to stop it. A few swats  from  the kitty pins and she learned to respect them. When we brought in a kitten, May’s  mothering instincts blossomed, surprising us. She raised it, groomed it and  now they all sleep together. April, my daughter,  who convinced us to adopt May and who has been  a huge part of caring for May, has been able to help  with most of her doggie dislikes, like the ear drops. April is great at relaxing May for  a two or three  toenail trim. But it does take a few days because May won’t tolerate more than one foot at a time. The groomer  must hate it when she comes in for a spa day.

But these aversions  are within the normal spectrum for a pet, right? Let me go on to what is challenging . sometimes she reverts into a demon, thus her alternate name, Mazikeen. Anyway, her Shepard came out, she is such a drama queen. First, to tell us her ear hurt she jumped onto the bed, flopped between us and kept us awake by whining and shaking her head all night . Then she hurt her ear more by scratching it and when we tried to look at it she screamed like we were cutting it off.  So, off to the Vet to take a look at the ear. Then, Jerry gave her the anti-puke pill because she gets car sick in the truck. Well it didn’t work but we have a blanket  for that and an extra seat cover just in case. Then, they can’t take her temp anally because she turns into a whirling dervish in the exam room so they have to do it under her leg. That went okay, so did the ear inspection. But when they wanted to take a blood draw to check  basics from taking the allergy pills, they could not do it. She became a manic mess and sprayed blood all over them from jerking away. Three times, even with cheese whiz and three people to help distract her.  So next time we have to  fast her in the morning, run her until she is exhausted because a tired dog is a good dog in the exam room,  give her the anti puke pill two hours prior and maybe Jerry can avoid a mess in the truck   and the vet tech can get some blood. Oh, they want a urine sample. Well, that is not going to happen, She won’t let anyone sneak up and put a pan under her ass.

 

All this is frustrating and I am thankful it is Jerry and April facing the challenges with May. Oh, yes, I almost forgot to mention she punishes herself by running into the dog crate and facing the wall after we discover a chewed slipper or something she’d taken off the kitchen counter, like an oven mitt.   How could you not love this dog or be amused when she does this?  Talk about operant conditioning, lol.

 

The best thing about May is  the way she lowers her head  and leans into you or lap asking for affection, exposing her neck as if to say I trust you so much I want you to scratch me where I can’t reach. What could be more endearing than this?

 

May  on the dog bed with her bones and toys

May the dog on her dog bed with her toysMay the dog on her bed with her bones

 

The Tooth about Aging 🪥

| Filed under Guide dogs Relationships

 

Have you ever had the feeling you were forgetting something as you walked out the door? Well, folks, if you haven’t already gotten the hint, once you are past fifty, the forgetting increases and making a mental list isn’t enough.

Case in point: Yesterday I got the text message from the paratransit provider about my confirmed ten-minute window and pick-up time . I put on my  guide dog’s harness, my jacket, slung my bag over my shoulder, and grabbed my support cane and  tromped out the door into the pouring rain with the niggling feeling I’d forgotten something.

 

I soon put it out of my mind as the driver and I talked. We arrived, my dog guiding me from the bus into the office building and into the PT waiting room.

 

It wasn’t until I was halfway done with my routine that the forgotten thing was exposed.

“Where’s your tooth?” asked the physical therapist.

All I could do was take it  as gracefully as I could considering it is a front tooth  that is gone.

“I left it at home,” I said.

 

 

by Ann Chiappetta | tags : | 0

The Masher’s Last Stand

| Filed under blogging Poem writing

The Masher’s Last Stand

By Ann Chiappetta

I learned to cook prior to food preparation machines and commercial blenders

We used whisks, hand-crank mixers and potato mashers.  I stood on the Romper Room emblazoned stool beside Mom until my little arms tired. I whipped cream, eggs, and sifted flour. I was practicing to be a Suzie Homemaker, don’t you know.

 

After my parents divorced and we moved into an apartment, the budding skills became necessity. At nine I learned to scramble eggs, boil water for macaroni, and help make

meatloaf and meatballs.  The spoon with the little holes and the potato masher made the move with us.

I estimate the utensils are over fifty years old, the spoon is solid stainless riveted to hardwood handle grips. The masher is also riveted and sturdy, not even a bit of rust.

 

Dad’s carpenter’s   measuring stick   given to him by his father

was the final tool

Laid in a reverent place among elderly scrapers, hammers and planers.

Bobby, said a friend, your making mistakes, get rid of that thing.

 

The measuring tape wasn’t as fun to play with

And pinched my tender fingers more than once

Dad would release the stop and we listened to it retract as if by magic and

He would chuckle and say something about

The wonders of modern technology

Then whip out the stubby pencil from behind an ear, mark the wood

clip it back to his waist and return to work with the hand saw.

 

I pretended the curled papery shavings  from planing the wood

that fell like

Dogwood petals onto the shop floor were

Secret messages from fairies or a mouse

 

I put them to my nose and inhaled the fragrances

Cedar or pine was the best

 

Pop gardened and gave me the first taste of fresh mint

Strawberries warmed and sweetened by the sun

Pickled cucumbers in jars so big a child’s hands could not

carry or open them

My little fingers squeezed

Lupini beans from their casings as directed

By the little Italian lady visiting

From next-door

and my lips tingled from

a bit of afternoon antipasto

and my confidence was tempered

by losing a few hands of Casino

 

I tried buying lupini beans and couldn’t find them

Though I remember the card game rules and pulpy fragrant

Refinements Of the shop

And how attached I am to a few outdated implements

The telltale products of my youth.