Balloons and Tristan the Twister

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How lovely must it be to have a Daddy who is a magician! Daisy and Willow could tell you.

I came across these photos taken years ago when I first met my magic young friend, Tristan the Twiister, or Tristan Stothard. He was entertaining at The Lockeeper during lunch, blowing and twisting bright balloons into all sorts of recognisable shapes, shown in the slideshow.

When my craft shed was erected in the corner of the garden, one of the neighbours said it was like Downton Abbey and needed a Grand Opening. So Eunton Abbey began! But that is another story.

click to visit his website
Tristan and his balloon Union Jack

I sent an invite for help to Tristan who arrived with his lovely daughter, Daisy. He went to work and made me a balloon Union Jack to hang across my stable door.

Then he made grande chapeaus (my French is tres terrible) for my garden party guests. All wonderfully pretentious!

Despite all the merriment, the magician seemed lonely.

Soon after my event Tristan met his new wife and soulmate, Emma,, who totally encourages him in all this wonderful madness, and, as if by magic, along came Willow.

Tristan also made some wedding flowers from balloons to accompany a framed poem I was giving the couple. They were a great hit and lasted longer than real flowers!

Soon after I came back to my family in Australia. In meeting my very kind magician friend at a low point of my life, following the passing within months of my Mum and Dad, those balloons lifted my spirits and left brightness iin my mind that stays in one corner forever.

Tristann is on FacebookLink to facebook page

The Nicest Thing You Can Say

“I forget you have Parkinsons” my helper said as I was struggling to get out of tthe car after our two hour outing. For a professional to say that was praise indeed, for I try hard to stay on top of it.

We had set off for the little shopping centre at Jewells with the great bargain shop that is chokkers with things you forgot you needed, like another $2.50 long-handled grabber and 4 old- fashioned ce cream dishes,

AAA batteries, 3 cans of turqoise spray paint for the outdoor metal bench, some craft clay for kneading to strengthen my weak left arm, plus set of wooden tools to work it (spent a happy hour on Youtube later while horizontal learning how to make things with it. Will take it up to the big table in the community hall during the week and have a go. Should be good for hand brain workout.)

Back to what I call The Treasure Cavern: I have a shopping list app on my phone that works really well, and kept me mainly on track, if you dont count the sundae dishes…and the windmills in the photos. Another weird item I was looking for was a shopping list pad that consists of money- sized colour prints of banknotes from $100 down. Had a bit of fun writing notes on the backs of $100 and handing those over! Used ones decorate my old bookcase as a reminder to keep writing. Yes it may be weird, but it works. My life. I am giving everyone a handfull of banknotes with their Xmas present – in the form of a notepad. Its the thought that counts.

I had left my helper talking to another client we ran into – at my request – and enjoyed looking at the myriad items with the improved focus of my last eye injection. $70 later at the checkout and my usual cheery chat with JJ, who never tries to rip you off like some dollar shops do.

Remembered powdered cinnamon and avocado garlic dressing from the organic veg shop, and we headed into what I call ‘The Geriatric Cafe’ because it is always full of pensioners. We had a laugh at the notice on the counter

but decided to barge in anyway!

I got halfway through my tasty bacon and egg roll when I hit the wall. What they call ‘off time’, when the levadopamine has worn off and the next dose is due…speaking of which…Made the mistake of deciding to wait the 20 mins till I got home – paid later in pain.

I am not conscious that I slow down like the Energiser bunny on the wrong batteries until it is pointed out, because my thinking slows as well, even my speech apparently.

So that was when my helper remarked, in a complimentary way, ‘Sometimes forget you have Parkinsons’, as I was just slowly getting hold of my walker (called Harley) for the longest walk home (the same few short metres I did easily earlier, got in the door, took my tablets, lay down leaving shopping iin bags, moaned and groaned while my muscles protested at the change of gravity, and fell asleep.

But it was a good fun day. Today is Saturday, my horizontal recharging day. I am writing this lying down. My mind says eagerly ‘lets go out and drag the bench over to the grass and give it 3 cans of turquoise spray paint, c’mon!’ My body says, abruptly. ‘Shutup!’

One of the items I didnt realise I needed till I saw it! Got two.


Note: compulsive behaviour is a side-effect of Parkinsons. I consider mine impulsive behaviour, but I have always been that way. Other recognised side effects are gambling (does the occasional $2 lottery ticket count), and increased sex drive. Still waiting.