The Passage of Time

Larry and I were married in 1997. We were well into our middle-aged years, and had been married before. Our perspectives and expectations were very different than those of younger people. And I truly believe that what made our relationship work (and work fairly well) was that we were instantly good friends--we really liked each other.

About 20 years ago, while camping at Georgetown Lake, and when we wanted to get away from the Present Company, Larry said, "I know a good place for a picnic!". We packed up some sandwiches and drinks and a couple of folding chairs and surreptitiously headed to a mountain lake that he knew about.

After a very bumpy ride on a dirt road, we camp upon a little diamond of a lake in amongst the pine trees. The only people there, we enjoyed the peace and quiet, as well as our great lunch. As many things as we have done in the past 26 years, this has always remained in my memory as one of my favorite.

This weekend, we were on a mini road trip and were passing by Georgetown Lake. I asked Larry if he remembered our lunch trip. At first he was fuzzy about the details, but, as we came around a bend in the road, and an old wooden forest service sign that said 'Echo Lake' came into view, he did, indeed remember. "You wanna go?", he asked. And of course, I was game! The road was even longer than we had remembered, but eventually we saw the sunlight glimmering on the water.

As we came around the final turn in the road, much to our chagrin, we saw that the entire site was now 'improved'! The well-designated parking area was graveled. There were very nice wide steps, improved with timbers and gravel. And the beach area was cleaned and improved as well. When we walked down to the water's edge, we were so saddened to see that there were at least 10 houses with private docks built all along the edge of the lake.

I know that everything changes with time. The population of Montana has (seemingly) exploded over the last 30 years. I guess that, rather than being sad about it, I should be so very, very glad that Larry took me to so many beautiful and fairly untouched wilderness areas of this Best Last Place we live in.

Can You Wash Cashmere?

When I lived in California in the 1980s, I kept up with the latest fashions and loved to dress well. Then, in 1990, I moved to Montana, lived on a shoestring, and found myself a fish out of water....nobody dressed like I had in California! Not even the news reporters! I tried to wear my clothes, but people looked at me; I could just feel their eyes roll and knew I may as well have "California Girl" tattooed on my forehead! I got rid of everything in my closet except the Basics and Classics and began to search for a new fashion identity.

Then, about 20 years ago, I started watching What Not to Wear. Clinton and Stacy came onto my radar right about the time I started menopause and began to gain weight, and they had such great advise. One of their pet peeves was that women shied away from purchasing cashmere sweaters. In Montana, we wear sweaters at least 8 months out of the year, so I decided I needed to take their advise to heart and looked for a couple to add to my wardrobe. I was fortunate to stumble onto a clearance sale on cashmere and purchased three. What a game-changer! They are soft, pretty, and very warm...what more could a girl want?

Now I have a good stack of cashmere sweaters. Also, I am retired and money is tighter than when I was working. I realized about a month ago that my sweaters had not been cleaned in over three years!! Even though I have a dozen, they still need better care than that! However, at $10 each for cleaning....

So, on Pinterest, I went to my friend, Martha Stewart, and got a good bit of advise on washing cashmere. This is what I did to clean them...

1- I got out my old sweater rack (see photo) and my bottle of Woolite. I filled one of my kitchen sinks with cold water and a tablespoon of soap and the other with cold clean water.

2- I put a sweater in and let it sit just a bit, then lifted it in and out without wringing. Then I kind of rubbed the cuffs and collar where stains are more inclined to be hiding. Once I felt it to be thoroughly cleaned, beginning at the neckline and working down, I squished out as much soapy water as I could and moved the sweater to the clean water.

3- I rinsed it the same way.

4- I quickly moved the sweater to the washing machine (avoiding dripping on the floor as much as possible). I set the machine to the "delicate" final spin cycle and ran it to get as much water out as possible.

5- Removing the sweater from the machine, I laid it on the sweater rack and began stretching it to the size and shape I wanted. Pull from both sides at the same time. Then stretch from the top and bottom at the same time. Finally, pull the sleeves cross-ways so that they do not dry too tight. While it is damp, get the sweater the way you want it, folding the sleeves across the chest, and leave the sweater to dry for a couple of days. Finish drying it another day on a hanger, then fold it and put it away....

Congratulations! You just successfully washed your cashmere sweater!

On Grandmother-hood

I have three lovely grandchildren. They are, and for the past 21 years, have been, the light of my life. When they were little, they would come tumbling into my house like over-grown puppies, all legs and feet and ponytails and giggles, nipping and nudging at each other. I loved the long, warm summer days when they would run in and out of the house with their tales and discoveries and petty arguments, silly and surprising requests and demands for yet more food. Even before they were on their way home, I was already grieving the loss of their childhood wonder; of the smell of dirt and pine needles in their hair. Every visit wore me out and every sign of their growing up tore at my heart with knowing that the day when they would outgrow their fascination with the world around them was just around the corner.

But to my amazement, all three of them continue to make it a point to come visit. They jockey their school and work and Scout schedules around every summer, and each one of them spends a few precious days alone with us. Each visit is tailored to their age--they always have a very definite idea of the things they want to accomplish: Can we play golf with Grandpa?, Will you teach me to make merengues? Can we go to Farmer's Market? Can we visit the Rock Shop? Will you teach me to crochet? ...

What I have been pleasantly surprised with is that I, too, have evolved. I honestly do not know if I could still keep up with those little bundles of energy. I do, however, have the time to sit and listen, to ask questions, to proffer advise. And I have discovered that this stage is just as fulfilling, just as enjoyable, just as filled with the wonder of their discoveries of growing up and negotiating the world they live in...their world