Requiem for a laundromat: Why I loved watching my clothes drying

Illustration by Dell Linney

My family didn’t have a washing machine when I was a kid. Well, at least not one you could wash anything in.

See, there was this big white appliance in the kitchen that could wash all sorts of things, but in our house it was only good for putting stuff on, like the soap you didn’t want to forget when you left for the laundromat.

 

I never did find out exactly why we couldn’t run the washer — one parent blamed the plumbing and the other blamed my father — but I also didn’t really care. Because when we needed clean clothes, I got to go to the laundromat.

That was cool.

 

Not because I liked filling a pillowcase with all my dirty clothes and schlepping it to the car, but because I liked going just about anywhere with my mother, and I loved going to the laundromat.

With no television to watch or video games to play, I was usually starved for entertainment, and to me, the laundromat like an arcade, only much better —  full of fun machines to play with, but without all the oppressive noise and lights.

 

Full of predictable and soothing sounds like the steady whir of washers and spinning of dryers, the laundromat was my version of a “clean, well-lighted place” full of adventure.

Beginning with the change machine that gave out tiny waterfalls of coins. I preferred when it wouldn’t take my dollars at first, making me smooth them again and again, so that finally getting the shower of silver felt that much sweeter.

Once I had the quarters, it was even more fun to put them in the washing mashing, carefully lining up the coins in the narrow holes on the sliding receptacle before pushing them into the washing machine with a satisfying clunk that brought the water rushing onto our clothes. And if my mother wasn’t watching me, I liked to “accidentally” leave the lid on the washer up so I could watch its tub filling and the soap foam as it began to agitate, but she always got wise before my fun got too dangerous.

With the lids down on our churning washers, my thoughts turned to the store next-door, hoping my mother wanted to check the sale bin for cheap sweatshirts so I could beg for some extra quarters to buy candy with. That I rarely happened of course, but rarely was better than never. 

By far the best part of going to the laundromat, though, was watching the dryers. I coveted the last one by the huge window where the chairs were, because then I could sit right next to the glass and watch our clothes spin. I could have watched any dryer, of course, but it felt wrong to stare ant other people’s underwear and socks flopping about.

Watching clothes drying was soothing, one of the best forms of relaxation I’ve known, especially since it was the only form of “doing nothing,” my mom would allow. If I tried just lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling like I wanted to when my mother was reading at her desk, she would tell me to go do my homework, or a chore like dusting.

 

But at the laundromat I was already doing a chore, so watching the dryers was finally mother-approved laziness that I relished. Sometimes I just let all the colors swirl together, sometimes I tried following one piece of clothing around and around and around. 

 

And sometimes, if I watched the colors long enough, they became the cartoons I couldn’t watch at home, the tumbling clothes conjuring Bugs Bunny and The Wonder Twins for me. Those clothes’ cartoons were never quite as entertaining as the ones on TV, of course, but they were never interrupted by annoying commercials, and they always ended with me having piles of warm, clean clothes to carry home.

 

That was very cool.

I still have such warm feelings for our laundromat that I like to visit it every time I go back to my hometown, peeking inside to watch my mother showing me again how to properly fold a shirt at one of the tables, then see if go running to the store next-door, quarter clenched in my fist because I finally convinced my mother to “pretty please let me buy some candy!”

 

My beloved laundromat emptied of its machines.

So I was quite sad on my last visit earlier this year to find that my laundromat was closed, and that all of the washers and dryers I loved were gone.

 

As I took pictures through the window, a man walked up with his dog and told me the place had been gutted very recently.

 

“Fond memories of the laundromat?” he said when I told him I used to go there as a kid.

“Yes” I said. “It was concentrated family time.”

 

“Well, there you have it,” he said, and while it was not cool to find the place closed and all the machines I loved gone, it was cool to talk to someone who also missed it, though for much more practical reasons, as he would need to find a new place to wash his clothes!

One more cool thing about that laundromat: Just about my proudest moment happened there, years after I last visited with my mother. While doing laundry I locked my keys in my car, which was not uncommon, but I retrieved them in a very uncommon way that only my old Volvo would have allowed — crawling into the trunk and unlocking a door with a coat hanger!

 

How they met: My grandparents were professional ice skaters in the 1940s, hired by Sonja Henie

The job that started my family: On Sept 12, 1943, my grandmother signed a contract with a producer named Arthur M. Wirtz, who hired her to perform as an an ice skater in the Hollywood Ice Revue starring Sonja Henie, a very accomplished figure skater who became a film star.

That was cool.

Because another skater working for that show just happened to be my grandfather, so her signing that contract not only changed her life dramatically, it soon started the life of my mother, then eventually the lives of my sister and me. 

But that's not the only reason why I love the contract, which my grandmother kept for 70 years. I particularly enjoy reading all the details explaining exactly what the producers of the show would, and wouldn't, pay for, with a special page dedicated to the train tickets that would take her from California to Chicago.

The contract states that she will be paid $65 a week, only $30 of which was actual salary. The other $35 was for “living expenses, including board and lodging, but excluding railroad or other transportation costs.”

The railroad costs were excluded because a separate page of the agreement is dedicated to the details of the train tickets:

“In connection with the Employment agreement… I agree to furnish your railroad transportation ticket and berth to the point of origin of the Hollywood Ice Revue, that is to say, Chicago, Illinois, from your place of residence, which you represent to be Los Angeles, and back to said residence… at the termination of said show. It is expressly understood that the railroad tickets and berth furnished herunder are purchased under a special rate arrangement with the railroad and are not transferable and are not subject to cash refund or credit in the event they are unused in whole or part, or unused within the time limit designated on said tickets.”

Grandma covering her pregnant belly.

Just a couple of months after signing the contract, my grandmother became pregnant. The show was scheduled to run until June of 1944, but I have to imagine that my grandmother stopped skating long before that. I am very curious about what happened next, but she kept nothing that provides any answer to my questions, such as: “Did she quit voluntarily, or did they fire her for ‘gaining weight?’” 

(Though I will likely never know for sure, I have to imagine that my grandmother found a way to quit ice skating long before her pregnancy began to show, given how our society would have viewed an unwed mother in the 1940s.)

I’m also very disappointed that I could not find any photos of either one of my grandparents skating, and found only one photo of them together. Since my grandparents never married and to my knowledge were only civil after their work “fling” when necessary for my mother’s sake, the only photo I have of them standing next to each other (posted above) is one taken by my mother in the early 1960s. My grandfather has cameras around his neck because he was taking photos of my mother, I believe in honor of her high school graduation.

Read more on my grandfather, who stayed true to his Michigan roots even as he traveled the world, here: https://thatwascooladdress.blogspot.com/2021/12/my-grandfather-world-traveler-who.html

Birding for Mom: Why I kept the binoculars I used to resent, but now love using

Birding for mom at Elkhorn Slough.

I kept my mother's binoculars after the crash, even though I kind of hated birding. First for being the passion that took her out of the house so much, then for being the passion that kind of killed her.

But when my grandfather, the person who first gave my mother the birding bug, had her binoculars repaired after we retrieved them from the crumpled car, I was so touched by his thoughtful gesture that I kept them, despite my resentment.

And I was very glad to have her binoculars 30 years later when I finally met up with one of her birding pals again for a walk, because not only did he still recognize them, they made him cry.

That was cool

Cool not because I like to make people sad, but because of how it felt to be with someone else who missed my mother. One of the few things that can truly ease the grief of losing someone is being with another person who feels their absence, because they understand that no matter how long it has been, no matter how fine you look, you are still just the walking wounded.

Losing my mother at 15 felt like someone ripped out one of my lungs and told me to just keep breathing. My body learned to adjust, but it's never the same. You never forget how it felt to breathe with two lungs, and there's never another day where you don't feel at least a twinge of pain.

But the only thing worse than feeling pain is having to explain it, so eventually we all box up our sadness and shove it in the closet with all the other nasty truths no one likes to talk about. Until, of course, you find someone with the same scar, and you not only both welcome the chance to talk about your pain, doing so can finally help you heal.

Like that day I walked with her pal Bruce, and he told me how he still agonized over how my mother had ended up riding with the newest and youngest member of their bird club because Bruce's car was full when they all went out looking for one of the last birds on her Life List: a Spotted Redshank.

I didn't like knowing that Bruce still carried pain from that day, but I did like how carrying the pain together made it feel lighter while we walked. So to celebrate my mother's 80th birthday, I plan to take another walk with someone else who remembers my mother – one of her closest friends, Cecilia, who not only became a surrogate mother to me, but is now one of my closest friends, as well.

And we don't plan to just carry our pain together, but to do something my mother would do if she could, which is to spend the day outdoors and just enjoy being alive. And maybe if there are two of us thinking about her, she will be able to feel us together, and it will make her smile.

Especially because I will be taking her binoculars with us. I don’t keep them tucked under my driver’s seat like my mother did, so she could whip them out whenever she saw anything other than a turkey vulture flying overhead, but I do take them birding whenever I can – always hoping that someday, I will see that Spotted Redshank for her.

And that would be very cool.

 

Lost on the Mendocino Coast: Where the heck is Blues Beach?

Looking for Blues Beach. Photo by Nathan DeHart.

When’s the last time you asked someone for directions? And by someone I mean a live person, another human being you talked to face-to-face —something I call “Old School GPS.”

 

While you’re trying to remember, I’ll tell you why I had to dust off my ancient searching skills very recently while trying to find something on the Mendocino Coast called Blues Beach.

That was cool.

Why? Because it was fun to actually look for something again, to physically search for a place that couldn’t be virtually located for me. More importantly, it was comforting to know that there are still places in this world that my phone can’t find, locations that an electronic voice can’t give me driving directions to mere seconds after I type a name.

 

Like Blues Beach, which I read about every week in an email I get from Caltrans, the California Department of Transportation, which alerts media outlets to upcoming road projects in your area that will affect traffic. 

 

And for months now that email has included something called the Blues Beach Trailhead, words that made me picture a trail along the gorgeous Mendocino Coast that I hadn’t been on yet. And as someone who loves both trails and the Mendocino Coast, I decided I had to find the Blues Beach Trailhead.

 

So I set out with my friend Nathan to do just that. Like most drives I take, it started off with a mistake, because I turned onto the wrong highway to head to the coast. But Nathan shrugged it off by declaring: “We're on an adventure, right? We’ve got plenty of time, just start over!”

 

And so I did, turning around and heading back to drive to the coast on Highway 20 instead of Highway 128. Once we reached Highway 1, I didn’t ask my phone where Blues Beach was because I knew it was near Westport, and I figured there had to be a sign. After all, the beach used to be owned by Caltrans, and who makes more signs than Caltrans?!

 

But also, we were on an adventure dang it! I didn’t know it yet, but I secretly wanted a mystery to unravel, a puzzle that my human brain had to solve, using only clues provided by other human brains.

 

Like this rock a birder friend told me about. Back in the pre-digital days like the 1980s, he said, there was a rock near Mono Lake where birders kept a list of the birds they had seen in the area. So instead of just getting an email telling you of recent sightings, you had to find the rock, lift it up and pull out the piece of paper people had written on.

 

I loved learning about that rock; loved picturing that list tucked under it, waiting for the few fingers that knew they could pull it out and read it. 

 

And yes, I want there to still be things like that: knowledge transferred from one human to another the old-fashioned way: by touch, taste, sight, smell or sound.

 

Like how my mother spent her weekends listening to records of bird calls so she could identify the sounds she heard coming from the trees. But now? Now you can just ask your phone to tell you which bird is talking.

And maybe my mother would have liked not having to memorize the calls herself because a phone app could just tell her, but I doubt it. And I don’t want to ask a phone either.

 

Like when I was at the grocery store shopping for turnips, and found only purple ones instead of white.

“What’s the difference between purple turnips and the white?” I asked the man stocking vegetables next to me.

“I don't know,” he said. “But I can Google it for you.”

 

“No, thank you,” I said, because I didn’t want to ask a phone. I wanted to ask a person who had obtained facts through experience, then could offer them firsthand to someone else.

So I think I wanted it to be harder than it needed to be to find Blues Beach. I realize now that I could have just taken the mile marker off the email and found the turnout that way. But I wanted a mystery to solve, an analog path we had to find ourselves by picking another human brain.

Which is what we did to find Blues Beach, finally asking the camp host at Westport-Union Landing State Beach for directions, which she happily provided while explaining why we couldn’t find them online: “Because only locals call it Blues Beach, so you have to ask a local!”

So while Blues Beach was definitely not the prettiest beach I've been to on the Mendocino Coast, especially because of the fresh tire tracks on the sand, it was definitely the most satisfying to find. 

And has one of the best signs I’ve ever found at a beach, a placard nailed to a telephone pole that declares “Go Jump in the Ocean,” which I think we should all do every chance we get. Why? Because you can’t take your phone with you! 

And that is really cool.

My Grandmother's Journals: September, 1999. "To KFC, got pot pie."

Grandma and in granddaughters in the 1970s.

Welcome to my anti-anxiety medication: my grandmother’s journals. Because reading all the details of her days, the minutiae of what she ate and what she watched on TV, is to me both fascinating and soothing, the perfect antidote to stress, worry and frustration — which we all seem to have far too much of these days!

In September of 1999, she turned 84 as woman living alone in a trailer park, but don't feel sorry for her because she wasn’t sad, and neither was her home — she was the most fiercely independent person I have ever known, living near one of the coolest places I’ve ever seen: Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, Calif. 

 

And nearly every day she walked the cliffs along the ocean, looking out for the surfers who loved that spot, too. 

 

 

That was cool 

 

And man, that life of walking near the ocean, going to the donut shop for some coffee and a treat before heading to the movies sounds just about perfect right about now.

(I wrote more about her life in this post)

 

Also in September of 1999, grandma was watching tennis, driving down to stay with a friend in Santa Maria, and dutifully checking for email messages from me and my sister on the computers at the library.

 

August entries.

 

Wednesday, Sept. 1, 1999

Up 7:30, usual breakfast. Chores.

Got gas at Kmart, breakfast again!

Bought food at Kmart, Albertsons. No soy!

Home 11:30. News, Murder 

To BofA, Wells Fargo, Credit Union.

To McDonald's for sundae.

TV: Due South, L&O (old).

Bed, some crossword. 

L&O, fell asleep, twist ending!

Consumed much water, up three times.

Thursday, Sept. 2, 1999

Up 8:30, usual breakfast. Ready by 10.

Walked on cliff.

To Drug Emporium for TV Guide.

To show, "The Muse." Liked.

To library, email from Justine. Sent her message with Treasury note and that I saw "Muse" and liked it. Sent same message to H but omitted movie Muse.

TV: Due South, X-Files.

Bed 11:30. Not good sleep, ear noise.

Friday, Sept. 3, 1999

Up 7:30, usual breakfast.

Chores. To Nob Hill for milk, soy.

Walked on cliff. Cold, high surf. Many surfers. Fog, chilly.

To KFC, got pot pie.

To Blockbuster, got three: The Breakfast Club, Blow Up, Shakespeare in Love.

Home, rested til 3.

Mail: Myra, Sears, Lucent.

Ellie needed to go to bank, took her. Saw Larry.

TV: Tennis, watched Shakespeare in Love after Due South. Very good.

 

Saturday, Sept. 4, 1999

Up 7:30 again. Ear bad. Slept 2 hours maybe.

Usual breakfast. Chores.

To Longs, got soup, etc.

Tennis: Agassi won, Serena won, Seles won.

Mail: Check from Visa, letter from Mina.

Returned Shakespeare in Love.

To Burger King, fish and fries!

Carole called 8 p.m., talked til 10 p.m.

Bed 12. Another bad night, took pain pill. Slept til 9:30.

 

Sunday, Sept. 5, 1999

Rain at U.S. Open, Rerun of 1997.

Mary Joe Fernandez slipped on wet court.

Not a lot of matches on TV.

Ran Breakfast Club while checking tennis.

TV: Ebert (dropped Siskel); X-Files, some news.

Bed, not able to sleep. Called Justine, left message on machine.

 

Monday, Sept. 6, 1999

Better sleep, massaged ear.

Usual breakfast, tennis. 

Returned Breakfast Club. To Trader Joe's.

Called Mina regarding Prudy.

TV: News, Law & Order.

Bed 9, no sleep. Ear bad.

 

Tuesday, Sept. 7, 1999

Slept til 9:30. Took melatonin, had tea about 2 a.m.

Shower/hair.

To Kmart around 11:30, ate.

Returned Blow Up.

To library, Internet shut. Finally open, logged on, unable to get any messages. Overloaded. Holiday?

Home 5 p.m. News, Due South, good.

TV: Law & Order, Diagnosis Murder.

Slept good! Finally, used dry heat.

Wednesday, Sept. 8, 1999

Up 8, usual breakfast.

Walked Capitola, fruit stand. 

Drug Emporium, got TV Guide, soup.

To library, lost visor. Found it.

Was to see Twin Falls. No early show today.

Got info on Word Cruncher, Visa to write complaint.

Mail: Card from Jennifer.

Tennis, news, Due South, L&O.

Ellie husband still in hospital.

Sleep 11:30, not great. 

Thunder, lightning, some rain. Storm set fire in Big Sur. Called Justine.

 

Thursday, Sept. 9, 1999

Up 8:30, breakfast usual. 

To Drug Emporium for paper.

Changed sheets, chores. Washed some sox here.

To Scotts Valley, ate KFC.

To Kmart, got 2 pair pants, food.

To show, "Iron Man."

Got gas, home.

Mail: Letter from Mina, consumer survey.

Foned Justine, told her about trip to Santa Maria.

Some TV, bed.

Friday, Sept. 10, 1999

To Mayra's, take tamales!

Up 7, out 10.

To Soledad, saw John Mark about 1:30. He not good.

We discussed Sixth Sense, his friends did not figure it out.

Arrived Myra's 5:30 p.m. Had chicken stew, talked.

Bed 11, no sleep at all. Ear bad.

Saturday, Sept. 11, 1999 - At Myra's

Up 7, breakfast.

We to Food 4 Less, then Asian market. Not Chinese.

To McFrugal's, JoAnn's Fabrics. Oilcloth $3.99, 25% off.

Ate at Sizzler in Arroyo Grande.

Back to Penney's, Myra got pants, I got black sweater.

Home, had tamales. Got news.

Tennis: Serena to play Hingis today: 6/3, 7/6, 7/4.

Bed, took pill.

Sunday, Sept 12, 1999 - Her 84th birthday

Up 7, stayed in all day.

Myra worked: Made soup, washed clothes, changed bed, etc.

Ate rest of tamales.

Tennis: Agassi over Todd Martin: 6/3, 6/7, 6/7, 6/4, 7/6.

Walked to Von's, strip mall.

Read paper.

Bed 11, took pill.

Monday, Sept. 13, 1999

Packed, etc.

Up 7, breakfast. 9:30 off.

First stop Paso Robles, got fudge cake.

Third stop Soledad, arrived Santa Cruz 2:38 p.m. 

193 miles, five hours, three stops.

To mall for paper. Read, did crossword til 6:15.

Used toilet at Sears, ate banana and cookies.

Home 6:30. Ellie's husband died Friday. He was very sick.

Two phone messages, Justine and Debbie.

Some TV.

Tuesday, Sept. 14, 1999

Up 7. Got bank balance, 31 cents off.

To Dr. Ramirez, got partial.

To McDonald's, got coffee and muffin.

Home, unpacked, Washed some clothes.

Called Justine two times, ate.

Justine called back. Discussed 2 years, 2 months.

TV: News, Due South. Read papers.

Readied for bed, one hour for everything.

10 p.m. news, storm on East Coast, Hurricane Floyd.

 

Wednesday, Sept. 15, 1999

Up 6 a.m. Breakfast tea and melon.

To laundromat.

Home, wrote U.P. man regarding railroad crossing. Also wrote to Carla.

Took to post office 10:20, first pick-up at 10:15.

To Kmart for groceries, BP.

Home, ironing, read papers.

To library, email up! One message from H, two from Justine.

Thursday, Sept. 16, 1999

Awake 6 to 7. Usual breakfast.

Chores. Typewriter troubles!

To mall, paid Sears.

Got hanger clips, checked for shoes, flat. No go at Payless, Kmart.

To Ocean, coffee/donut. To thrift shop, donations.

Mail: Card from Carla from Hawaii.

TV: Murder She Says, Lehrer.

Packed vitamins.

Called Justine 4:30, not good. Said I would call regarding Sunday, maybe I won't.

TV: News, Due South. Most reruns.

Not good sleep. Vicks, heat lamp.

 

Friday, Sept. 17, 1999

Awake 5:30 to 7:30. Used heat lamp.

Chores, ironed. Foned Visa. 

Libraries closed.

To Drug Emporium, got card for Prudy. BP OK.

To McWhorter's for Xerox.

Home, lunch. (Corn).

To show, "Stir of Echoes." Kevin Bacon, boy sees dead again,

Mail: Mastercard.

TV: News, same, Due South, then ready for bed.

Slept very good!!

Saturday, Sept. 18, 1999

Awake 6, up 7. Breakfast, shower/hair.

To bank, Orchard Supply.

To Kmart: Got crackers, gas, lunch.

To library. Message from Carla: Cool, no reply to Yamaha. I answered.

Home, packed. Wrote to Sy, letter to BofA.

Mailed letters, got cookies and candy at Rite Aid.

Home, some TV. Called Carla at 6:15, said I'd call tomorrow.

Bed early.

Sunday, Sept. 19, 1999

Up 5:30 to 6. Breakfast, chores, etc.

Left Santa Cruz 8:30. To Santa Rosa 11:15, called Carla 2x.

To Luther Burbank Garden and Museum, bought poem.

Healdsburg has museum, call for reservation. 

Talked to clerk re Robert Louis Stevenson, 38 in group. (2 cancelled)

Dinner, good. Get-together, interesting. 1 truth, 1 lie.

Needed tea, talked to New Jersey couple. Playing casino, he retired accountant.

Monday, Sept. 20, 1999

Breakfast: Oatmeal, scones, tea.

Three hours of lecture on Buddhism. 

Lunch, tour of place.

Purchased in 1947, previous owner shutdown farming operations, raised Great Danes.

Barry Lawrence, wine pro. Quite the character.

Astronomy lecture also good, too tired to see telescope.

Tuesday, Sept. 21, 1999

Breakfast: Cereal, etc. 

More Buddhism, skipped lunch.

To Healdsburg Museum. No paper, talked to curator.

To Calistoga, Sharpsteen Museum, great. Got 3 RLS books.

To St. Helena, got three. 84 miles, back 6 p.m.

Dinner, shower 9 p.m., bed 10 p.m.

Wednesday, Sept. 22, 1999

Breakfast: Eggs, etc.

9:10 bus, Finnish driver (Chris). Korbel champagne.

Rain, lightning in night. Foggy, overcast. Cannot see Mt. St. Helena. Cold, also.

To Armstrong Woods for lunch, tour of Guerneville.

Called Carla, left message on machine.

Slept 9 p.m. til 12, then awake. Listened to Art Bell!

 

Thursday, Sept. 23, 1999

Good breakfast. Hitchcock 9-12.

Ate lunch here.

To library, got 2 Xerox.

Got gas, got info for ferry. Called Justine, gave her times. 1:10 over, 4:15 back. 30-min trip.

101 very crowded at Santa Rosa, no Jack London Museum.

Back, shower, washed hair.

Russian River Ramblers, met nice woman.

Full moon.

Friday, Sept. 24, 1999

Up 6:30, packed, put all in car.

Breakfast, good.

9-12,Hitchcock, 2nd part. Good.

Carla arrived, showed her around. 

To Healdsburg, left car. To Cloverdale.

Left for Rohnert Park at 4:45. $42.99 for Fri/Sat plus 4.73 tax. 

Ate Wendy's. Shower, read French book. Sleep 9.

 

Saturday, Sept. 25, 1999

Good sleep, up 8. Some golf, Ryder Cup.

(:30 to McDonald's. To library, read paper.

On Internet 12:30, sent message to Justine, Carla, H.

Drove to San Anselmo, 66-mile road trip. Not good. Should have turned right, back on SF freeway.

Back to Rohnert Park, library again. Very hot. Read papers. Took stock prices.

Called Justine, she may drive to Oakland.

Ate KFC, took pie home. 

Some TV, limited.

Shower, sleep early. Packed, also.

 

Sunday, Sept. 26, 1999

up 6:15-30. Ready by 7:30.

Left comment re  rude, noisy clients.

Golden Gate Bridge by 8:30, toll $3.

Took Geary to Masonic to Grove, parked free Sundays.

U.N. Plaza Farmers Market. Homeless men, some women.

Took BART to Embarcadero, building has toilets. 

Curnved staircase, no signs for ferry to Oakland.

Girls on Vallejo, said it was Oakland. Finally got 1:10, Justine there OK.

Walked around after lunch. Back to SF.

Delay out of SF, 280-101-380, off on S.J. 280, 92-1. Pull over constantly. Santa Cruz 8:15.

Monday, Sept. 27, 1999

Slept good. Up 6:30, unpacked.

Ready by 11. to Drug Emporium, Trader Joe's.

Home, news, papers.  Murder She Says.No Lehrer.

49ers/Arizona game (After Due South). Steve Young knocked out.

Law & Order Special Victim Unit.

Readied for bed 11 p.m.

Tuesday, Sept. 28, 1999

Awake 6:30, up 7. Usual breakfast.

Chores, some washing, washed car.

Talked to Ellie, she selling car, etc.

To McDonald's for coffee, 1/2 muffin.

To Longs, got two small flashlights. Locked out of car, keys in Longs.

To Live Oak, online 12:35. Sent message to Justine re ride home.

Home, CNN, Murder, Lehrer, Due South, etc.

Bed, not good sleep. Too warm.

No mail, adverts.

Wednesday, Sept. 29, 1999

Up 8:30, usual breakfast. Chores late, washed clothes.

To Drug Emporium, TV Guide.

To Kmart in Scotts Valley, got cosmetic bag.

Mail: Bank statement, bank owes me 30 cents.

TV: News, Due South.

Bed, heat got me. Terrible night.

Awake 2:30, read papers, crossword til 4. Rested til 8:45.

Thursday, Sept 30, 1999

Up 8:45, breakfast.

To bank re .30 mistake.  Overdraft, lost/cut up Visa card?

To Kmart, got food. 

Home, washing, lunch. Heat treatment. 

Paid rent, searched for Visa card. Not found.

TV: News, Due South, JAG, Law & Order (rerun). 

Bed, read papers, etc. Restless til 3 a.m.

Friday, Oct. 1, 1999

Up 8:30. Breakfast, shower, hair.

To Supercuts, $10 + $2 tip.

To Ocean Street for coffee/donut.

To library, got 2 books: Yoga for Women, Fitness After 50 Guide. Had to pay fine of $4 for videos.

Home 2 p.m. Wanted to see show, "The Dinner Game," but gone now.

TV: Usual fare.

Bed, problem with sleep.

Read mail, AT&T to buy MediaOne. Spent time reading prospectus.

New life goal: Be a "Tough Broad" as long as I can!

My bruised and scuffed-up elbow!

I fell while hiking this week: My foot hit a bump and the rest of me toppled like a cut tree, sending me belly-flopping onto a path full of hard dirt and rocks instead of a pool full of water.

That was not cool.

But at least I didn’t seriously hurt myself. I did get some nasty scraps and bruises, but nothing got broken or even sprained. 

So, that was cool. It was also cool that my hiking pants didn’t tear at all (thank you, Prana!) and that I was wearing compression pads on my knees so they were not ground into hamburger meat.

 

Knee injury circa 1990.

Yet it was still really scary to be suddenly heading straight for the ground with no way to stop myself. And it wasn’t at all like the last time I got such horrible bruises on my knees, when I was 18 and careless and climbing over rocks way too fast. After that spill I laughed, then pulled out my camera to document my wound. (Why? Hopefully it was to remind myself to be more careful, though I seriously doubt it.)

 

But this time I had not been careless. I was just walking. On a trail. That was nearly flat — then suddenly “splat!”Falling when you’re young can often be funny, but falling when you get older is almost always frightening. 

 

And therefore it is even more important to get up and keep walking if you can. And then get back on the trail the next day. 

So I was very glad to have also learned this week about the perfect book to inspire me to do just that: “Tough Broad: From Boogie Boarding to Wing Walking — How Outdoor Adventure Improves our Lives as We Age,” by Caroline Paul.

 

Like me, being outdoors is what makes her feel most alive, so Paul makes sure she doesn’t miss out on all the fun because, also like me, she’s in her 50s. Instead of sitting out things that seem risky or only appropriate for much-younger people to do, Paul argues that we should accept and even embrace the limits that come with age, then wring every bit of excitement we can out of the years and stamina we have left. Amen!

 

But the “Tough Broad” I am even more grateful to right now is a woman who just entered her 50s this year, a friend who inspired me to embark on two unforgettable adventures in one weekend: First a sunset swim in an alpine lake, then on a hike to a staircase in the sky that leads to the Sierra Buttes Lookout Station, a platform with such soaring views that you feel as if you’re hovering over the entire Sierra Nevada Mountains.

And yes, I documented both adventures in a video:

My Grandmother's Journals: August, 1999. “Got panties. Blue and purple, all cotton.”

Welcome to my anti-anxiety medication: my grandmother’s journals. Because reading all the details of her days, the minutiae of what she ate and what she watched on TV, is to me both fascinating and soothing, the perfect antidote to stress, worry and frustration — which we all seem to have far too much of these days!

In August of 1999, she was an 83-year-old woman living alone in a trailer park, but don't feel sorry for her because she wasn’t sad, and neither was her home — she was the most fiercely independent person I have ever known, living near one of the coolest places I’ve ever seen: Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, Calif. 

 

And nearly every day she walked the cliffs along the ocean, looking out for the surfers who loved that spot, too. 

 

 

That was cool 

 

And man, that life of walking near the ocean, going to the donut shop for some coffee and a treat before heading to the movies sounds just about perfect right about now.

(I wrote more about her life in this post)

 

Also in August of 1999, grandma was watching  tennis, going to see “Notting Hill” in the theater again and yet again for a total of ten times, even more than the previous record of six times for “Shakespeare in Love.”

 

July entries.

 

Sunday, Aug. 1, 1999

Up 7:30. Usual breakfast, chores. Swept carpets.

Foned Cathi, OK to bring sewing machine.

Washed car, walked on East Cliff.

To Cathi’s, met her daughter. She happy with machine, makes buttonholes. Talked a bit.

To library, early. Sat on bench. Man shared, started talking. Zen Monk, from China. Learned computers, teaches at Cabrillo College.

Justine sent me email.

Home, tennis: Davenport v. Williams. Great match. Williams tired. Heat?

Ebert: Runaway Bride (yes), Twin Falls Idaho (yes), Deep Blue Sea (yes).

Monday, Aug. 2, 1999

Up 7:30. Slept good. Shower/hair. Swept carpets. 

To Longs, McDonald’s for coffee. Spoke to Ellie, asked if she heard Larry. No, her husband was out “waiting for the bus.” She called the police, they found him.

Tennis: Rerun of Sampras/Agassi.

To library, email from H. Lost messages folder.

Tuesday, Aug. 3, 1999

Up 7:30. Changed sheets. Breakfast same.

To Longs, signed some petitions.

To Nob Hill, wrong price for bread in computer.

Gave two pair of pants to Sister Grace.

Ate lunch here.

To show, “Notting Hill.” [9th!]

Home, sent vitamins order, wrote Prudy.

TV: News, etc. Read papers.

Bed, crossword

Wednesday, Aug. 4, 1999

Dentist 10:00

Up 7:30, ready by 9.

To Drug Emporium, got papers and TV Guide.

To post office, mailed letter to Prudy.

To dentists,crown fine. Out 10:30.

To Albertsons, had peaches on sale.

To library. Talked to librarian, attachments blocked because of virus.

To show, “Notting Hill.” [10th!]

To Branciforte library, computers busy.

To Live Oak, message from H. Replied, attachment still there. Sent message to Justine, also.

Home, dinner.

TV: News, Due South. (Ben shot).

Thursday, Aug. 5, 1999

Up 8:30. Watered lawn after breakfast. (Usual).

Ironed t-shirt.

To Kmart for gas, forgot wallet. Left watch there.

Returned home for wallet, went back, paid.

Home, lunch. Ate mango!

Mail: Bishops Ranch, car insurance.

Tennis: Agassi v.Chang. Agassi played in morning and afternoon, won both.

Bed early.

Friday, Aug. 6, 1999

Up 7, usual breakfast.

Vacuumed some. 

Walked cliff.

To Ocean donut/coffee.

To library, talked to Reference Desk.

To Aptos. Ate KFC. Took pie home.

To show, “Eyes Wide Shut.” Stupid! Cruise can’t act.

TV: Due South, lost in woods. L & O, Farscape.

Bed 11:30. Cyst broken.

Saturday, Aug. 7, 1999

Usual breakfast. Some chores, cleaned wood.

To bank for recap, got paper, coffee.

To library, message from Justine, H and Carla. Then internet down, attendant still there.

Home, lunch. Worked on bank balance.

Mail: Justine sent $50

Tennis: Venus over Davenport, Agassi lost.

TV: A&E Dance Sport. 

Made checks for girls, read papers.

Bed, crossword, news. Better movement today.

Sunday, Aug. 8, 1999

Up 8, usual breakfast. Chores, shower. Ready by 11.

Mailed letters to Justin and H.

To Ocean for donut/coffee.

To show, “Blair Witch Project.”

To library. Librarian gave me name “Donna” for expert?

Tennis: Hingis over Williams, 6/4, 6/0!

TV: New Ebert, Mystery Science Theatre, ran two Internet videos. Fun.

Fluid in area near ear.

Good sleep.

Monday, Aug. 9, 1999

Up 7, no milk. Ate English muffin.

To Laundromat.

Albertsons for fruit, soy.

Home. Swept patio, had cereal.

Ironed t-shirts, etc.

TV: Equalizer, Murder.

Mail: Penney’s bill.

To library, sent message to woman in Alaska, also Carla.

Saw Donna, did not know attachments blocked.

Home, some TV. L & O, Due South. (Messed up).

Bed 10.

Tuesday, Aug. 10, 1999

Slept 12:30 to 5:30! Then 7:30.

Breakfast usual, ready at 10.

Got paper, walked cliff.

To post office, got 10 stamps.

Got TV Guide and two packages of pads.

Kmart, ate. Got panties: blue and purple, all cotton.

Home, some TV. About 11 a.m. adult man shot 3 kids & teenager & adult at child center north of LA. "Perp" not found.

Bed, 10 news, Frasier. 11 news. 

Not good sleep.

Wednesday, Aug. 11, 1999

Up 7:30, usual breakfast. Chores.

Swept ceiling, vacuumed front, under chairs. Picked up a heavy object under couch. Coin?

“Perp” turned himself into FBI in Las Vegas. 

Watched CNN: LA police, mayor, FBI, all held conference. Well-handled, “commended” all.

Shooter 39-years-old, took two taxi cabs, first to border of Cal-Nev, then another to Las Vegas!

To show, “Thomas Crown Affair.” Good.

To library, email from Alaska.

Home, news, etc. Dave. Slept good.

Thursday, Aug. 12, 1999

Up 7, usual breakfast. Chores.

To Longs, paper, BP. McDonald’s, coffee.

To show, “Sixth Sense.” Good. Slow start, twist at end.

Ate at KFC.

Home, 4 p.m. Law & Order, 5 p.m. tennis: Agassi won, tough match for him.

TV: Lehrer, no Due South?

Bed 9:30. Slept good.

Friday, Aug. 13, 1999

Awake 4:50, up 6:30. Light breakfast.

Watered lawns. Walked cliff. Sun out.

Home, Tennis: Sampras won, good match. Agassi won, tough for him.

No mail.

Straightened cabinet in bathroom. Tossed a few things.

TV: LA Detectives, Lehrer, Law & Order.

11:30: H called for hotel, Holiday Inn said no reservations. Was on cell fone in shuttle. Got room at Best Western. She called again from hotel, 12:30.

 

Saturday, Aug. 14, 1999

Woke 7:30 usual breakfast.

To Albertsons, got fruit. 

Walked. Man asked for a playground.

Home, called H. Offered car if can’t get one.

Some washing. 

TV: Golf and tennis: Sampras over Agassi: 7/6, 8/6, 6/4.

To Longs, BP good.

To Blockbuster, English Patient. (Still $17.99 at Kmart.)

Mail: Treasury statement, card from Myra.

Shower, hair.

TV: History’s Mysteries.

 

Sunday, Aug. 15, 1999

Up 7, breakfast usual.

To town. Parked in garage, walked to Zachary’s.

Arrived 9:20, got table 9:30. Justine, H+C arrived 10. I was ready to leave. Very angry. 

Friend Carolyn from Berkeley, worked at Justine’s paper for a time.

Home: Sampras won, Tiger Woods just did win PGA.

Bed early. 9:30.

Monday, Aug. 16, 1999

Awake 3:30, back to sleep 5-7. Groggy.

Did bank accounts.

To Kmart, looked for bed spreads, only comforters. Got food.

Got muffin, coffee.

Home 12 p.m. Wrote B of A in Phoenix.

To Longs to Xerox letter, Albertsons for fruit.

Live Oak for email: Message from Carla and Justine.

TV: Due South, some Lehrer, L&O.

Ate potatoes and avocado.

Bed 10:30.

Jay Leno had Hugh Grant as guest.

Tuesday, Aug. 17, 1999

Slept good. Up 6:30.

Bank to check balance, first wrote letter to Myra.

To Drug Emporium, then Ocean Street for donut/coffee.

To library, read some of Newsweek regarding “Blair (Witch Project).”

Home 2 p.m. Watched “Murder She Wrote.”

Read “Island Voyage.”

TV: News, Due South. (Good).

Earthquake 6:10?

10 p.m. news: Confirmed quake at 6:07, 5.0 off Bolinas.

Sleep 12:30 a.m. Used heat lamp.

Wednesday, Aug. 18, 1999

Good sleep. Awake 6, then 8.

No papers at two places.

Typed letter to Sy. To post office, got stamps.

Walked on cliff. Got paper.

Checked Gottschal’s for bedspreads.

Got coffee/donut at McDonald’s.

To show, “Mystery Men.” Awful.

Mail: Letter from Visa, replied.

To library, no email messages. Used Xerox, left original.

TV: Due South.

Back to library, checked Ross and Mervyn’s.

Thursday, Aug. 19, 1999

Up 6:30, usual breakfast. Out 10.

To Credit Union for info. Called Treasury, no five-year notes til Nov.

To McDonald's. Coffee, sauce (apple).

To Sears for bedspreads, got one.

Drove to Scotts Valley to see "Runaway Bride," it was at Aptos.

To Albertsons, dropped bag. It was retrieved, woman put it in plain sight.

Home. Lunch, Murder She Says, papers, etc.

TV: Lehrer, Due South, Law & order.

Bed, read, crossword. 11 news.

 

Friday, Aug. 20, 1999

Awake 6:30, usual breakfast.

To dentist for impression, 1/2 hour.

To mall, read a bit.

To Aptos for "Runaway Bride." Not great.

To KFC, got pie.

Home, Murder She Says. Girls left 6:50 p.m.

Maria washed car.

Mail: Forms returned. Incorrect!

TV: Farscape, Due South, 11 news.

Slept good.

Dentist gave me cinnamon Oral B.

Saturday, Aug. 21, 1999

Awake 6, usual breakfast. Heat lamp early.

To bank for correction of forms. Leah! This will be bad.

To San Jose Tin Tin for tea, etc. Man in line also uses Tuocha. Traffic back not bad.

Ate Wendy's 3 p.m. Joan/Sally called regarding oil cloth.

To Live Oak, email message from Carla. Got instructions for estimating tax capital gains.

Mail: U.S. West merging with Quest.

TV: Star Trek.

Bed 10.

Sunday, Aug. 22, 1999

Late. Awake 6, then 8. Shower, hair. Ready at 10:30.

To Ocean Street donut, walked to Logo's. 

Sold Virginia Wolf, 39 Steps, bought Ancient Healing Secrets. Also Webster's dictionary for learners of English!

To library, research for Joan/Sally on oil cloth.

The Zen Monk there, we talked. He smokes! Looks like high blood pressure. He talked to young man, 14.

Home 5:45, ate.

TV: Ebert, "Mickey Blue Eyes" (no). 

Monday, Aug. 23, 1999

Up 7:30, usual breakfast. Chores, ready 10.

To Longs, got tissue. To McDonald's, got coffee.

To Beverly's, no "oilcloth." Vinyl, checkered blue and red tablecloths.

Home, read papers.

TV: News, etc.

Bed late, not good sleep. 

Noise in ear, massaged. Finally sleep til 7.

 

Tuesday, Aug. 24, 1999

Usual breakfast. Packaged vitamins, 10 x 10.

Noise less now? (Ear).

Walked 10 - 10:15. Ocean?

Worked on car statements. Need tires changed, and oil.

To library, some dictionary OK. Forgot some info.

Home again, Agassi won.. Great match.

News, worked on taxes.

To Kinkos, printed info.

TV: Bravo. 

Ear better.

Wednesday, Aug. 25, 1999

Slept OK. Up 7, usual breakfast. Chores.

Took car for oil/filter &tires rotated. Had coffee.

Back to Sears2 p.m. Jiffy vacuums car, also. Cost $30.

Ate KFC, pot pie.

To library, message from postmaster: That part of Justine' email address was missing. Resent message.

Home, wrote Prudy. Called Justine.

Called Myra. Visit 9/10.

Bed early, good sleep.

 

Thursday, Aug. 26, 1999

Usual breakfast, added a bit to Prudy's letter.

To post office 9:30, then to Nob Hill for fruit, milk. Muggy.

Card to Stimson. Tea & scone.

To town. Library, researched more on textile imports and Santa Maria Asian markets.

To show, "The Adventures of Sebastian Cole." Good.

Home, read papers, news.

TV: Due South, Lehrer, Law & order.

Up 2:30, ear woke me. Slept 3 to 8. 

Friday, Aug. 27, 1999

Up 8, usual breakfast.

To Kmart, got crackers, paper. Ate English muffins, coffee.

Got two basters, 1.79 and 2.15.

Wrote Myra, mailed at 5 p.m.

Watched "Defending Your Life," French film.

Saturday, Aug. 28, 1999

Chores, walked cliff.

To McDonald's, coffee.

To library, used computer for printing.

Email: Message from H, answered. Sent mail to Justine also.

Big doings at corner across from Rio theater. Charity for cancer.

Woman gave me name Wisteria for oilcloth.

Home, called Wisteria. Opeen Monday.

Mail: Letters from Visa, bank statement.

TV, read papers, worked on taxes, stocks.

Not great sleep. Tool melatonin at 2:30.

Sunday, April 29, 1999

Usual breakfast. Myra called. Arrival on the 9th better for her. (Or me?)

Shower/hair.

To Longs. BP, Xerox out. Returned video.

To Wisteria for oilcloth, $10/yard.

To Cathi's, not home!

Golf: Tiger won.

Surf contest in Fiji. Jeff Booth, host. Contestant from Orange County. Won by Australian.

Bed. Nite ear noise.

Monday, April 30, 1999

Slept 4-8. Usual breakfast.

Typed words, definitions from Stevenson's Inland Voyage.

Foned Visa, asked for $38.60. Girl seemed Latino, angry.

Finished book to mail to Mina, started letter.

To Kmart, got ice cream, hot dog.

Tennis: Hingis won, Agassi won.

Football: 49ers 16, Rams 8.

Used heat on ear.

Tuesday, Aug. 31, 1999

Slept better, 12-7:30

Wrote letter to Mina, sent copy of Stimson's letter, told her Prudy's story.

To post office, used Xerox at McWhorter's.

To McDonald's, lights out.

To Cathi's, gave gold top, skirt.

Home 12:15. Watched news.

Tennis: Serena Williams won, Kim Po played good.

Wrote another letter to Mina.

TV: Due South, Master of Ballantrae 

September entries.