Maybe I am pushing my luck to think this qualifies for the SidevieW theme this week, but I think some people certainly found the consequences of my photographic ambitions today somewhat amusing!
Regular readers will recall that in April, just before turning 5, young R undertook an official swim of 400 metres for her badge. Despite not being too well at the time, she completed it.
Today was the prize-giving. We had a Garden Judges’ Meeting to go to, but decided to try and shoot off there afterwards – seeing her get the badge would be special. Also, young J was due to receive a certificate for her pre-two-year-old swimming progress.
We rocked up nice and early – but everyone else had kept South African time (which is when the urge takes you to get there, never mind advertised starting hours) and so the affair kicked off late. When J’s name was called I merrily hauled out my Sony and switched it on. Nothing happened except that it leered at me sullenly. Now frantic, I managed to yank out the backup Nikon, and activated it. It also refused to do anything – until I got the dial to the correct spot. Then I found that my view of J was obscured. Doing frantic gymnastics, I managed to poke it through a fence and got a shot at the crucial moment.
Now came the time for more certificates and medals and stuff, and I glued myself to the fence and waited for R’s name to come up. It didn’t. Finally only the trophies remained, and I started putting my camera away. Then a Distance Swimming Trophy was announced – and her name was called! – so I had to activate the equipment again at emergency speed. Alas, my view was blocked and I could only get a shot of her waving it at me as she left the scene.
Her 400 metre badge, and bronze swimming badge, were presented with it.
Thrilled at her achievement, I now carefully packed camera away as more trophies were dished out, and was just moving off when Best Girl Swimmer was announced – R! I uttered strangled squawks and once again did an emergency camera draw which would have been the envy of a gunfighter of the old West. In spite of tripping over feet and dancing a Fandango as a result, this time I had it up and running and found a suitable gap through human bodies in the nick of time – and captured the moment. Pity there were no trophies for dancing or clowning, though.
We did not get to our garden meeting. Too bad!