http://youtu.be/Vr6ajtA5Otg

Happy holidays to you all, hope you enjoy this down under singer.

an older favorite to share:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6-PAKOt7sM

(except I do not believe "the Christmas you get you deserve")

I want to share one other song which always makes me smile (and not just because of the 1980's hair cuts). I don't speak or understand Maori but it doesn't matter.

It was written in 1982 from a collaboration between Maori linguist Ngoi Pewhairangi and musician Dalvanius. Dalvanius was from Patea, a small village which was dependant for jobs on the big freezing works. (The works had opened in 1883, canning meat for export. It started freezing meat in 1904) When "The Works" closed in 1982 there was huge social disruption, and young Maori people had to leave their close-knit marae and head for the cities to find work. Some could not cope with the loss of communal support.

This song seeks to connect urban Maori to their roots and encourages pride in being Maori. Poi-E has become a "Kiwi classic" . (Best played very loud). Hope you enjoy it.

http://youtu.be/DQLUygS0IAQ

Everyone living with Parkinson’s disease has a story to tell describing how the ambiguous changes taking charge of their body emerged. Although these stories share common threads, such as rigidity, tremor and impaired movement, the symptoms vary and produce unique chronicles. Parkinson’s accounts are similar to the popular children’s book genre, the Choose Your Own Adventure series, which allows the reader to select from a variety of endings, creating multiple versions of the same book.

My first symptoms of Parkinson’s emerged slowly, like swells rolling across the ocean, and they were barely noticeable. Gradually, over time, my symptoms gathered strength and crashed into my life, one by one, like waves pounding the shore. Fortunately, I was able to tread water while my doctors solved the puzzle, concluding that I had Parkinson’s disease.

Before my retirement I worked in education. My first experience was with middle school students, the age group most adults avoid like the plague. But, I loved the enthusiasm of those preteens as they experienced the wonder years. After time spent in the hormonal holding pen, I moved to a local university; honestly, it was not as exciting working with graduate students. The final days of my career were spent with preschoolers. Here, I hit pay dirt. You just can’t have a bad day with three and four year olds!

Eventually my symptoms progressed and impacted how I performed the most basic of everyday tasks. I noticed that I had begun to acquire numerous characteristics of the little tykes attending the preschool where I worked. As Parkinson’s leisurely made itself at home in my body, it kidnapped my fine motor skills, transporting me back in time to those fumbling early childhood days. Was I becoming a case of disease imitating life as a child?

Have you ever observed three year olds go about their daily activities? They are fascinated with everything and exuberant about learning new life skills. It doesn’t matter to them if the shoelaces they tied are too loose or for that matter, tied at all. Future fashionistas wobble on plastic high heels as they attempt to walk, clip-clopping around the classroom during dramatic play time. Preschoolers are universally taught to wash their hands to songs like “Happy Birthday to You,” lathering and scrubbing for at least 20 seconds, thus ensuring that the germs are washed away. Yet if you watch carefully, you will notice the liquid soap is immediately rinsed off a child’s hands before any hand rubbing takes place. This is generally followed by grabbing a paper towel, pressing it up to the hands, tossing the towel into a garbage pail (usually missing it) and walking back to the classroom with sopping wet hands. Watching a group of tots getting ready for playground time is always entertaining. Young children have such unique ways of putting on coats and sweaters. Their arms become entrapped in the sleeves and they often misalign the buttons. Preschool youngsters are very proud of their artwork and are eager to learn to print their names on the masterpieces they produce. The typical signature of these junior Jackson Pollocks usually starts out LARGE and ends tiny. And of course a little one always needs to hold someone’s hand when walking, especially in crowds.

My love of shoes has been pilfered by Parkinson’s, disrupting my dramatic play time. So many high heels in my closet are waiting to be worn, but I am unable to balance in them while standing, let alone walking. Sensible sneakers also present a challenge for me. Pushing my feet into these walking shoes takes so much extra oomph and tying the laces is a cumbersome process. Hand washing has become difficult and I frequently find myself standing in amazement and pondering why my hands are still wet, even after towel drying. Many articles of clothing are impossible for me to don without assistance from my husband, or my “lady’s maid” as I now refer to him. Our grocery shopping excursions could be mistaken for a culinary reality show, starring the two of us trying to decipher my illegible, miniscule handwriting while hopefully purchasing the correct ingredients for each episode’s entre. Handholding is now essential in congested areas and, as always, it’s still very romantic when my husband reaches out to protect me.

Preschoolers look at the challenge of achieving a new skill with excitement and marvel. They are so proud of their accomplishment when a task has been mastered. Although Parkinson’s has altered the way I execute many daily activities, I am moving forward meeting these obstacles head-on. I refuse to allow my future to slip back in time. I will prevail and see wonder in the process by channeling my inner preschooler and not crying over spilt milk (literally, I spill things often). My personal choose your own adventure book about Parkinson’s will have unlimited happy endings, keeping me a step ahead and in control of Parkinson’s!