Tulip time

I wasn’t in the mood for a book meeting after working into the wee hours for several days in a row getting a rudimentary rendition of the new “Stage Mom Musings” blog up and running. But Betsy Bradley Kammerle, my co-author for a dance book still in development, washed all my cares away with a warm welcome to her home Tuesday morning. It’s got a lovely Frank Lloyd Wright vibe, with plenty of original art, books and cabinets filled with charming curios – and it’s always beyond-belief spotless.

When veggies meet carbs…

I’d offered to bring treats for what should have been a working meeting. But Betsy assured me she’d have coffee and zucchini bread at the ready, and it was one of those days when just showing up felt like a major feat. My husband suggested earlier that morning that we break out the confetti in celebration of the “Stage Mom Musings” finally making it from computer to cyberspace. But our son Christopher wasn’t feeling it.

As I did my little happy dance over mastering the fine art of tweeting, Christopher pointed out the futility of alerting a whopping two or three followers to something already on their radar. I didn’t have the energy to explain that social media stuff has to start somewhere. Remind me not to tell him I’ve only got a single friend on my new Facebook page at this point. I want to believe more “likes” will follow as more folks encounter the new blog. Fellow parents, help me out here.

Tulips make everything better

Before leaving the house, I published a “Stage Mom Musings” piece about my March visit to The Anne Frank Center in New York City, an official partner of the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. So I was especially struck by the yellow tulips in a clear vase sitting on the dining room table where Betsy and I do most of our book brainstorming. She explained that they were a gift from a friend, who’d recently come over to hear about Amsterdam adventures undertaken to celebrate a milestone birthday (the number needn’t be mentioned here).

Talking tulips led us to compare travel notes, and we discovered a little something we have in common. The way we pack. Betsy readily confessed to packing ten pairs of shoes at every opportunity, since one never knows what events or weather conditions might arise. Betsy is nearly always perfectly-put together, so she takes along every outfit she could possibly need. I do the same, but my selections trend more towards jeans and sandles. Her clothes are colorful, whereas mine are drab. Soon, I suspect, she’ll have me up at the mall learning to love something other than earth tones.

We didn’t get a lot of book business done Tuesday morning, but we had a lovely time. We talked about the latest television shows with a dance twist – “Bunheads” on ABC and “Breaking Pointe” on the CW network. Our views on each differed in surprising ways, making me wish we’d taped the back and forth for a little “YouTube” action. Instead, I suggested Betsy write up a little something sharing her perspective – which is posted at the bottom of this page in a litte corner of real estate carved out for musings related to our dance book in progress. We’ll save the “YouTube” thing for times we really need to freak our kids out.

A walk down memory lane

I was skeptical when Betsy told me she’d made zucchini bread for our get together. Because, really – who does that to a perfectly good batch of carbs? Adding veggies just takes all the sexiness away. But it was delicious, and made for a fun bit of “there she goes again” time. Before leaving, I snapped shots of the bread, the coasters my daughter made for “Miss Betsy” while one of her young dance students and Betsy too – though she protested not having time to make sure she looked ready for prime time. It was only fair, of course, that I let her snap a few of me (so sorry to report they’re too fuzzy for sharing). By now, I thought, she’s beginning to get a sense of who she’s really dealing with here. And yet, she’s with me still. Friend. Co-author. Fellow fan of tulips. Life is good.

— Lynn

Coming up: Diva meets dance, Bird brains?, “Purple Summer” in Phoenix

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