A gift of self-sufficiency: I got mechanical advantage for Mother’s Day

For Mother’s Day, in addition to a new Lego set to add to my part of our family’s miniature neighborhood, my kids worked together with their dad to solve a problem that plagues me when my arthritis symptoms flare.

Implementing one of the simple machines so fundamental to all efficient mechanical work, they gave me a lever. That’s right, I got the gift of mechanical advantage for Mother’s Day.

Shower handle - 1

It’s hand-crafted and lovingly decorated, too. With Sharpie, which definitely won’t show up in the laundry after this. I had to blur out the part where they made personally identifying marks on my gift. Just in case I forgot who made it for me, or gave their less artistic father too much of the credit.

Is this the most elegant of DIY home improvement? Perhaps not, but a bathroom remodel is outside the budget and the stark reality is that residential plumbing fixtures aren’t always easy—or even possible—to operate with arthritic hands.

Lego Diner set - 1

I haven’t had the time plus hand dexterity to begin building the fun part of my Mother’s Day gift, yet. Much to my younger guy’s chagrin. My lever, on the other *ahem* hand, has been used every day.

That is a gift that is easy to appreciate.

I’m kind of worse than average at pretending childish efforts are masterpieces or displaying scrawls on the fridge in a place of honor. I had no problem going with clutter-busting digital posterity by photographing then trashing stacks of preschool efforts.

This useful lever, however, fills me with a glow of pride. My kids made something real to help someone else accomplish a task. That’s heady stuff.

I love the Maker mindset and hope cultivation of same is one of the gifts we manage to bestow on our sons.

Thank you, boys, for thinking of me. And thanks again for easing a daily problem with which I struggled. I love my lever at least as much as I enjoyed the chocolate chip pancakes.

Parking lot rescue: prepared citizens can help themselves and others

Picture a silver sedan in a bustling Trader Joe’s parking lot.* Two ladies—perhaps a mother and her adult daughter?—are huddled to one side of the closed trunk, but at the hinge end of the lid instead of the part that opens.

I walked right past them to unload groceries into my van. I was parked in an adjacent space. When I finished putting my things away, I noticed that the ladies hadn’t moved. Their heads were together. It looked like they were trying to solve a problem.

I asked if they needed any help.

Rescue scenario: a trapped set of keys

Here’s what they told me: the younger lady dropped her keys as she pushed down on the lid to close her trunk. The falling keys became trapped between the trunk and its lid. Without the keys, she couldn’t unlock and release the lid in order to free… the keys!

This sedan didn’t have a button inside to release the trunk. It didn’t have a fold down rear seat that opened into the trunk. Even a lady’s slim fingers were too thick to reach fully into the space where the keys were trapped.

It turned out that more was required than simply fishing them out. The keys were actually being pinched between two different parts of the car.

While I was hearing this explanation, another passer-by asked if he could assist.

An aside: This is my America! We help each other in times of crisis.

The ladies filled him in on the scenario while I grabbed the first vaguely tool-shaped object in the back of the van: a 12″ ice scraper. The flat edge could slide between the lid and trunk. They went to work trying to dislodge the keys.

While the original pair and the new helper made this attempt, I delved deeper into the array of equipment I keep in the van for emergencies.

Ammo can in the van: a tool box

Here’s a peek at a collection of useful tools in my vehicle at all times. It’s part of my personal ethos to be prepared. Some gear is switched out seasonally—like the larger SnoBrum† and a full size shovel—but these items never leave the van. Continue reading