A Mother of A Memory

One winter, when my daughter was almost six years old, she was preparing to perform a song for our community Christmas party. 

We live in a small mountain community outside Montana’s capital city. Our community association throws a potluck Christmas party every year and the local kids put on a talent show.

She sat in front of our stereo listening to cassette tapes. Song after song. Tape after tape. She was dedicated to finding just the right one.

She chose her song and called me into the room to tell me her selection. “A Jimmy Buffett song,” she said. “Nice,” I said. We all love Jimmy.

She had the tape ready and played, “Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw,” definitely by Jimmy Buffett.

I didn’t think that vintage Buffett set quite the right tone for Christmas, so I tried to convince her to choose one of his more well-known songs. She decided to dance instead.

Night of the party, her dance went perfectly. Best in the show, if I do say so. And I do.

Santa arrived with his big bag and delivered a present to each child. After the kids and Santa were applauded, he made his way out the door.

My daughter handed me her, as yet unwrapped present, and said, “Let’s go see the reindeer.”

I convinced her to open her present first.

And, don’t you know it, by the time we got outside, Santa and his sleigh were gone.

On one hand, I didn’t fancy her seeing a neighbor stripping off the Santa suit before he climbed into his pickup. 

On the other hand, I wanted to see the reindeer too.

In that moment between when Santa went out the door and my daughter called to us, "let's go," there were reindeer outside the community hall.

Of everything being a parent gives a person, the most precious is possibilities.

You might get to see the reindeer.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Invention is a Mother

Last week, I received notice my play was going to be featured this summer at a conference. 

Yes, DRIVER’S ED, on her feet once again, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about today.

The theater sent a contract and request – a bio, play description and a head shot.

Oh, I hate to write those. You’d think I grow accustomed to the process and every script, you’d be wrong.

But, wait, and a what?

A picture. 

oy.

I have enough camera equipment to shoot, film and record the end of the World, so one measly self portrait should be  e a s y.

Then I got a good idea.

I could put the little Oly on the tripod with the view screen deployed and watch myself while I posed for the picture.

Except –

With the Oly on a tripod the view screen can not be deployed.

I have 1597 pieces of GoPro connections, I could probably jury rig something.

 Almost, but not quite. Gave it the old college try though.

Put on makeup. Set up the Nikon. Went back and forth until I made a picture that didn’t make me cringe.

Sent everything off to the theater.

But wait. Good ideas don't have expiration dates. If I could get the Oly on a tripod on its side, the next time I want to take a picture while I stare at the camera, it would be easy.

Searched the Net. There are such devices costing $125 to $180 and all still block the screen.

Looking at those, I realized if I could attach an L brace to the camera, I'd be set.

All that’s needed is an L brace, brass screw, gaffer’s tape, a screwdriver and a husband handy with tools.

Husband not shown.

Made this.

Attaches like this.

Eureka.

Now, should the need ever arise again, I am set.