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The following stories were originally in the Autism Society of Maine Newsletters. I write a regular column for them humorously describing the challenges I face as an autistic individual navigating a non-autistic world. People see a little bit of themselves in each story and at the same time have a better understanding of the unique challenges we autistic individuals face on a daily basis.

Deb

I Never Saw It Coming

March 2010
by Deborah Lipsky

After haying season my husband and I use a portable electric fencing system to fence in 6 acres and allow our horses, ponies, donkeys, and goats to graze that area for the fall to "fertilize" the field. This fencing system usually is dismantled by mid Nov. because it is fragile and will not stand up [no pun intended] during the harsh snowy winter months. Before the snow arrives we use our pickup truck to drive to and carry the miles of fencing wire and too numerous to count fiberglass poles back to the barn. My speaking tours took me all over the west coast for most of November and early Dec. this year so I wasn't home when 2 major snow storms hit our area early. I arrived home to find the fencing was still up because my husband "forgot" about it in my absence. To make matters worse there was too much snow on the ground to use our truck and another significant snowfall was expected within hours so in a panic we had to drop everything and concentrate on taking down the fencing on foot. Being rushed my husband rifling thru the closet couldn't find his snowsuit that he insisted was there so naturally in an agitated voice belted out, "My snowsuit isn't in here.....'Somebody' took it out and put it someplace I don't know where......... Why doesn't somebody tell me when they move things?

I don't know if it is your norm, custom, ritual, or whatever, but the highly annoying non autistic practice of placing blame on some imaginary person instead of being truthful and blaming the suspected individual directly seems more socially inappropriate than some of our communication issues. I replied,"Since you know someone other than me moved it why don't you take it up with this 'somebody' who cares." ( I have recently learned the concept of sarcasm from some of my friends. While it may be deemed socially inappropriate as well as immature during a "tiff" I find it highly gratifying to respond with it to an irrational statement thereby pointing out to the other person how illogical their argument is without resorting to character deformation or vulgar language.)

My husband snapped back, "Don't be smart" to which I countered, "Well then don't be stupid. Since it's just the 2 of us here get in touch with your autistic inner child and just be blunt by blaming me and not some imaginary phantom of yours."

After locating his suit [in the same closet] we set out on the 1/4 mile trek to the start of the fence. Impulsively on our way out I grabbed our purple molded plastic under $10.00 toboggan/sled I got at Walmart's figuring this way it would be only 1 trip back with the 100+ poles and wire on the sled instead of numerous hand carrying trips.

I would take a few steps before breaking thru the glazed hard crust covering the powdery snow underneath. The wind was now picking up. I lost my balance which caused my flailing arms to launch this otherwise docile trailing toboggan like a rocket in the air. Sailing past me but still tethered to my wrist it flung me forward to the point where I couldn't regain my balance so I crashed face first into the snow. My husband startled by a purple plastic blurr whizzing past him turned around only to find his wife covered from head to toe in snow. I looked like one of those snow baby figurines minus the angelic expression. In what I can only call the dumbest question ever he asked, "Did you just fall?" Still stunned from the mishap I wasn't amused by his question. "No I didn't fall" I snapped back. "I was just overdo for a nap and this seemed like a comfy spot. What do you think happened?" Impatiently he retorted, "Stop clowning around we have work to do".

After brushing off the snow I went chasing after the runaway toboggan which by now was halfway across the field. My socks started to migrate towards my toes. These are the socks we all have worn only a few times but the elastic holding them up prematurely loses its elasticity causing gravity to bunch them up by your toes. Seeing as they are still too new you hate to throw them out and in defiance still attempt to wear them. Pressured by time I decided not to go back to change socks but pull them back up and just tough it out despite the sensory unpleasantness.

We started working on dismantling the fence from the farthest uphill corner down the slope towards the house. As my husband disconnected and wound the top strand of wire I lagged behind winding up the 2nd strand and pulling up the poles and placing them on the toboggan. I got tired of dropping and picking up the toboggan rope every time I moved a few feet so I wrapped the line around my wrist tugging it forward with my forearm as I went from pole to pole causing repeated forward lurches that slammed into my heels allowing for an accelerated migration of the "toe socks". To add to my sensory misery it began to snow heavily. One of my worst sensory issues is snow falling on my nose. I can tolerate being slapped in the face much more readily than enduring even just one of those flakes landing on my cheek. The snowflakes were now pig piling on the tip of my nose as if in defiance of my sensory intolerance's. That combined with toe socks,and the toboggan snapping at my heels with every step drove me to desperation. Needing an immediate reprieve I came up with what I thought was an ingenious remedy. I took the rope from around my wrist and looped it around my ankle concluding that changing the rope's angle would lessen the tension thereby reducing velocity and eliminating further heel nipping. Initially my idea worked for the weight of accumulating poles weighted down the sled causing a reduction in momentum. Halfway down the fence line breaking thru the crust bogged down by weight, this plastic purple sled turned anchor stubbornly refused to budge another inch when my foot tugged on the rope. In impatience and frustration I forcefully jerked the leash forward of this uncooperative time saver with my ankle. With a renewed sense of vigor the toboggan lunged towards me like a charging bull. My brain scarcely had time to register the inevitable before it swept me off my feet. Falling backwards on to the sled I was taken against my will. My added weight acted like a booster rocket gathering speed as it sped down the slope. With the perfect form of a winter U.S. Olympic athlete I zoomed past my husband in this makeshift luge. The once neatly piled fiberglass fence poles now discombobulated stuck out every which way. I was held hostage on top of a purple plastic cactus careening down the hill. Fleeing as if in panic poles scattered in different directions littering the otherwise pristine snow covered field. Again my husband catching only a flash of purple streaming by irately hollered out, "This is no time for joy riding!!" At the base of the hill the sled came to an abrupt halt flipping over and rather ungracefully depositing me and the few remaining poles face first in the snow. I can with full confidence honestly say I never saw it coming.

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