For adults only

  My sister knows someone who has Parkinson’s and who spends hours on adult colouring books. His wife says this is wonderful therapy for him. He gets really absorbed and forgets his woes.  It is good for his dexterity and co-ordination. My sister asked me if I would like her to get me one. The idea does not particularly appeal to me but I was surprised that such things even existed so I googled “adult colouring books” and was amazed to discover what a craze it is.

• Two colouring books by Scottish illustrator, Johanna Basford (Enchanted Forest and SecretGarden) were at one point ranked first and second in Amazon’s best sellers list. They have been translated into 24 languages.
• Her coloring books are especially popular in Paris, where they recently outsold France’s best-selling cookery books, something that was pretty much unheard of until now.
• Publishers say the vast majority of adult colourers are female.  French women seem particularly fond of flocking to book shops in search of challenging and highly intricate albums de coloriages.
• The idea that colouring things in has been psychologically deemed overwhelmingly beneficial to adults, and their use as a relaxation technique dates back as far as Carl G Jüng in the early 20th century.
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Whilst the idea of colouring in someone else’s lines does not really interest me I have been whiling away a few hours trying to teach myself to draw and paint and I can vouch for all the therapy claims. So here in the anonymity of this blog are a couple of my first efforts. There some lilies from my garden and no – not the long suffering one but a chimp copied from a photo! If you want to see some better ones from PD artists visit The PD Foundation’s site: http://www.pdf.org/en/creativity_artists

What language barrier?

The pool was finished in time and is wonderful. The children and grandchildren have been to stay and have well and truly christened it. Finally we get a chance to use it ourselves.

Despite all the toys, books and games we keep here their favourite games are World Cup football using two upturned buckets as posts and fly swatting. This latter occupation is to the consternation of their mother who is unhappy with the killing aspect and unsuccessfully suggested they use the swatter to just frighten the flies away.

It is strangely quiet now the family have left. Whilst they were here our friends and neighbours invited us all up for a BBQ with their children and grand children plus their son-in-law’s parents. A separate table was beautifully set out for the children – our two boys aged 10 and 6 and their two girls aged 8 and 5 and we 8 adults sat to sip our aperitifs, watch and admire them. There followed a great deal of uncomfortable silence. The problem was that they don’t really remember each other and don’t have the language skills to talk to each other. I glanced at our eldest who looked as if he was hoping a big hole would open up into which he could conveniently jump whilst his little brother amazingly was quite put off his sausages!

Finally a French grandfather broke the ice by bringing out a pile of pea shooters and the children teamed up to attack us. This was followed by a game of hide and seek and a dip in the pool and the communication barrier was well and truly broken.

As we discussed the language barrier I was reminded of an amusing little story from more than thirty years ago. We had some friends who were desperate for children and eventually adopted two children from Sri Lanka. Our friend told his mother and father who lived a long distance away that they had adopted a baby girl just a few weeks old and invited them to come to stay to meet their new granddaughter. Knowing how prejudiced they were he omitted to say where the baby came from. He thought his beautiful new daughter would melt even the hardest heart and he was absolutely right. Cradling the infant lovingly his misty eyed mother said “She’s so perfect and lovely but whatever will you do when she starts to talk? You won’t understand a word she says!”

Auntie’s advice

We’ve been deliberating for a little while but now we’ve done it! We’ve invaded the ‘kids’ inheritance’ and commissioned a swimming pool in the garden. It’s fairly small (6×4 metres) as we wanted to site it away from our neighbours view. So it’s going into our former potager to the side of our house which is a real sun trap as the installers have found to their chagrin as they have started working on it. Now the cement is drying out for three weeks before the final stages of work begins. We’ve gone the whole hog and it will also be heated to extend the time we can use it. I would like to say we have been rushing around buying aqua gym type equipment ready for starting a serious exercise regime as soon as it’s ready but so far we have only been tempted by a floating blow up armchair complete with glass holder which we quickly acquired!

There’s also a little cheering news. I had a surprise phone call from my one remaining aunt who I haven’t seen for more than 20 years. She is the only person I have discovered in my family who also has Parkinson’s. She told me she has had it for 8 years. It seemed to start after she had been ill with a virus. Her worst problem is her sight but apart from a shaky right hand the Parkinson’s does not bother her too much. It is only this year that she has started to take any medication. Her advice? Exercise…exercise…exercise! She is 82 and she was widowed last year. My uncle was a former paratrooper and was a physical training instructor. He worked out an exercise routine for her which she still follows today. She is so proud that can still touch her toes. He was a very strong character and I really thought she would go to pieces without him. However she is so courageous. She has joined a senior citizens club and regularly goes on all sorts of exciting visits and she has just returned home from two weeks at the seaside.