When I was a young mother I read an article about a woman who was blind. She told of how she cleaned her house through sense of touch. She cleaned sinks using her bare hands, feeling the cleanliness; mopped the floor with specially made pads to fit her feet, then walked on them barefooted to make sure they were clean.

I have always been fascinated by extraordinary use of the senses; always proud that when I get up at night, I never turn a light on, letting my sense of touch and almost a "whiskers-of-a-cat" like sense go before me.

When I read that article, I decided to try it myself; the old walk a mile in someone else's shoes, etc. That was almost thirty years ago and I still find myself cleaning my sinks with my hands bare, eyes closed. There is the scent of the cleanser, the feel of the grit of it cleaning out the soap scum; then the wonderful, clear water washing it away through my fingers; my feeling the smooth surface, knowing it will sparkle at me when I open my eyes. One of those small things which gives a sense of order to my life.

Please know that I mean no disrespect to any who may be differently abled.

kat