Golden Gate Bridge Walkers ....1987

Can't believe it's been 25 years since May 1987. That was the year the Golden Gate Bridge turned fifty and my family joined in the famous Bridge Walk.

Since my husband was working in San Francisco's Hilton as a maitre'd, he belonged to Local 2. The union offered a bus to carry anyone who wanted to the front of the line to walk across the famous span.
We put the kids to sleep in their clothes the night before, and then woke them at about 3 AM to drive to the union hall. There was a festive atmosphere as they served us all hot chocolate, and then co-workers and their families piled into buses to ride along together. When we were let off near the entrance to the Golden Gate, we had to wait because, if I remember correctly, Mayor Feinstein and some council people were going to lead the way.
Once the parade began, we fell in with our group.In the early morning light the orange towers looked pretty magnificent. It took quite awhile to actually make it on to the actual span. Our kids were already getting a little tired of walking, at ages 4-1/2 and 9, and the farther we walked, the crowd seemed to get denser. It was becoming less parade-like all the time.
We were surprised when we had crossed the half-way point, heading toward Sausalito, that we were all instructed to turn around, and keeping to the right, go back the way we came. I don't remember there being any Port-a-Pottys, and we all wished we could pee. Some men and boys used their male privilege, and relieved themselves over the side.
In the morning sun we watched helicopters fly overhead, probably reporting on this big event that we were uncomfortably a part of. My husband, Walt, picked up our son and put him on his shoulders. I tried to carry our daughter, but couldn't for very long. I worried about her being the short one in the crush of humanity, and I tried to protect her from elbows and such.Even now, 25 years later, I remember thinking that it was getting so crowded, I bet I could have lifted both feet up at the same time, and been carried along. I looked down at my daughter, sometimes with tears in her eyes, no doubt wishing that she could ride on Dad's shoulders.
Remember also, that this was before cell phones. A few people had transistor radios, and were listening to the coverage on the news.
Word was going around that the bridge was sagging with the weight of people. That sounded like a crazy rumor, since this famous span has held so many cars and trucks at once over the years. Never the less, it was interesting to see that the reaction to this news wasn't outright panic, but silence.
Everyone moved eerily slowly. What were they thinking..... that if they were quiet, they wouldn't weigh as much? Just "Please God just get us off this bridge!"  I was thankful they weren't in a trampling mood, since so many would have been hurt.  No..... just silence.
Then a man started singing "Trailers For Sale or Rent", a lonely voice, at first. I was happy to hear the familiar song, and joined in with just a few others. Anything to let us take our minds off our situation.
None too soon, we finally came to the end of our adventure, found a public restroom and began our long trek back home across the Bay. Safe at home we watched the fireworks display from our deck while listening to a symphony playing the "1812 Overture" on television.
The kids had the mementos of the foam bridge hats we bought them, and we all probably came away with a little aversion to crowds.

Fighting Bumblebees!

Yesterday I got out of my car in Berkeley California, went over to the sidewalk, and noticed a fuzzy sort of ball rolling around on the ground. I realized right away that it was two bumblebees fighting!

As they fought, the big one was on top, and then the smaller one gained the upper hand. But the advantage switched again, and the big one tried to fly off, carrying the small one under him!

I was fascinated by the yellow and black blur, standing close by, watching the action.
The larger bee sank with his victim to the ground as if it was too heavy, but as soon as he dropped it, they rolled about on the sidewalk a couple more times and then he was on top again and grabbed the smaller one and attempted to take off once more! He faltered, dropping his victim, and I swear,....HE .LOOKED AT ME!!!!!

I realized that I was the focus now of this ferocious insect, and I fled in terror to run faster than I ever have,.all the while thinking that I have broken a hip before and should be careful!
All of that was included in the movement that carried me racing along that sidewalk into my husband's store.
After I opened the door I rushed to him, turned my back, and said,"Do you see any bees on my back?!!"
"I don't see anything", he said.

We found later on the Internet that I may have interrupted a couple of male bumblebees vying for the female.   Sorry.

Keesha Says To Wrap!

While sitting in a labor and delivery waiting room at a little after midnight, hoping for updates on the arrival of our grandbaby, I noticed a young woman crocheting an afghan. Her fingers were flying nimbly as she poked the crochet hook in and out and twirled the yarn here and there. The growing blanket was already so far along that it covered her legs.
My husband nudged me and said "She moves a little faster than you do, eh?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "That's for sure".
The girl looked up and smiled. "He's referring to the little patch I've been working on, trying to teach myself how to crochet," I said. "The yarn is probably for someone more advanced than me. It's fuzzy and has little ribbons hanging from it. The whole piece comes out too tight or too loose and the edges are unpredictable. They wave in and out. I keep trying to tell myself that it looks arty!"
She commiserated, saying,"Don't worry, I've been doing this since I was 12 and now I'm 30. You'll get better!"
Turns out, she, Keesha, had been waiting since 1 p.m. for her friend's baby to arrive and she had been crocheting and visiting with the family all that time. By 2 a.m., it didn't look like our baby was going to come any time soon, so we thought we should rest for a while. We wished everyone well, and went home
By morning, we decided to do errands, since phone calls and texts had told us that the baby situation had changed. Her water had broke, so labor wouldn't be induced, slowing the process.
I took time to grocery shop and then stopped at the local Joanne's Fabrics. I remembered how our daughter had marveled at what I considered to be my pathetic attempt at crochet. Since it was pink, I think she thought I was making something for the baby.
Inspired by the woman at the hospital, and the imminent grandchild, I ventured down the aisles displaying a vast array of colorful yarns. Some were too scratchy, or thin, or fuzzy. (I didn't want to repeat THAT mistake.) Then  I found a thick, baby-soft, yellow, aqua and pink ball of yarn that looked perfect, and a big fat crochet hook. I told myself that I could do better if I studied a little.
Since I didn't know exactly how to do certain stitches or how much yarn to get, I decided to look at a how-to book and st in a chair near the pattern-book table.
This used to be an old haunt of mine, since I was a teenager, at a different fabric store that is long-gone. I remember sitting for hours studying the Butterick, Simplicity and even Vogue patterns from which I actually fashioned many of my own clothes, and later some for my little girl. It was a de-ja vu moment. I felt "back in the club", as I sat studying the stitches. Could I really make a baby blanket? Would I actually finish it?
Back at the hospital waiting room, at about 5 p.m., I was pleasantly surprised to find Keesha, (kind of sorry for her), still waiting for her friend's baby to be born. I dared to ask her for a lesson, since the memory of the book's explanation was fading from my memory.
Keesha had me sit next to her as I showed her my new yarn and big fat hook. I showed her I could do a chain stitch to start out, and she was a little impressed that I at least new that. The Double Crochet Stitch is what I wanted to use, since it seems to make a more loose "fabric".
She showed me how to find the next link in the chain stitch, wrap the yarn around the tool, push it through with the hook, wrap it again, pull through 2 stitches, wrap it yet again, and pull through the next 2, then go to the next link and repeat.
Just as soon as she praised me for catching on quickly, she'd catch me  pushing through the loop without wrapping first, and say, "Wait! Don't forget to wrap!" I'd do okay again for a little while, and she'd just coax, saying "wrap", and I smiled, saying,"I'll have to have a mantra, saying 'Keesha says to wrap'".
As I write this, my project is about 36 inches long (from my nose to my out-stretched fingers), and about as wide as an ace bandage. The baby is about to be born, so I'd better get back to work and pick up my speed.

Brooklyn Accents

Recently we took a trip to Brooklyn to visit my son, and to go to NYC for a Broadway show. My birthday was on Monday, May 7th, and after we found a good cup of coffee, my husband and I spent a couple of hours walking around the neighborhood on Bedford Ave. 
It seems almost European to me. The shops are all so close together they share walls, mostly brick. It took me a couple of walks on each block to realize or really notice many of the stores. Either they weren't open before, or my mind just couldn't take in all the sights.
Also on the lookout for a pharmacy, I saw a Duane Reade's, which seems like the Walmart of the east coast. It was the usual small storefront, and had one checker and a few items like cigarettes locked up. I asked the checker if she had contact lens solution. She pointed to the escalator, which brought me down, down to a huge basement super drug store! A surprise to me, making me wonder what was behind all those other storefronts. I wondered how people who bought more than I did could bring their purchases to the checkstand. The kind lady pointed and said "on th' el-le-va-ta". (I was so happy to hear her Brooklyn speech, I smiled.)
Further down Bedford, near Metropolitan, is a Municipal Pool. The high vaulted ceiling of the pool can be seen from the street, and people were coming out the door carrying their towels. We have a renovated pool near us,  the Richmond Plunge, so I walked into the lobby to ask if I could take a look. The lady said it was members only. I asked if they ever took walk ins. She said, "Well, only on the first Monday of the month." "Then that would be today, right?", I countered. "Could I just take a peek inside?"
"Oh yeah", she said. "Go in through the ladies dressing room", waving me along.
It was another world in there. Lots of older ladies were in different states of undress, mostly with wraps around their wet hair. There was another group standing barefooted in wet suits holding towels waiting in line for the showers. I stepped through the puddles on the floor past them, explaining that I'm just gonna take a look at the pool.
One woman piped up, "It's not a good day De-ah. ... It's va-ry gar-een.", with an accent to remind me what city I was in. Even though I had packed my bathing suit, I decided to pass.