Feeling Old Today

Probably because nobody asked me if I needed a senior ticket,
probably because my joints were hurting like the proverbial toothache,
probably because I know that my 65th birthday is only a week away,
and probably because almost everyone in the giant sea of moving people was under thirty....

What I missed most today were my healing people: Cecelia and Gabi and Dr. Tarpoff, the chiropractor.

I'd had a great acupuncture treatment and massage in Woodland Hills, but all these days since on the road have tightened up the joints again--and when I glanced at my reflection in the glass of all the hundreds of souvenir shops at Fisherman's Wharf, I had to do a double-take: That's me?

However:
Driving across the Oakland Bridge last night was an act of bravery that only the younger version of myself would do.

"You drove across the bridge at night?" Rhoda asked me.  "Then you can do anything!"

Yesterday, I spent the morning in Carmel By the Sea. Walking down the streets there, stopping in a French bakery for a delicious slice of quiche, I noticed that there were almost as many dogs as people.  Not mutts, not a single mutt--but perfectly groomed poodles and Cockapoos and GoldenPoos and chihuahuas and other assorted pedigreed puppies and dogs of all sizes.  They were dressed--I guess you might say--to the Nines: with their bows and scarves and jewels.  One was even being pushed in a dog stroller surrounded by his puppy toys.

I left Monterey Bay in the afternoon, and Rivka called me just as I was deciding whether to get a motel there or drive on to San Francisco.  I decided to go for it.  She suggested I stay on Route One--which was an excellent idea.  The route through Santa Cruz and Half Moon Bay was so beautiful that I wished I'd left earlier to soak up those views.

I stopped along the way to take a picture of a lighthouse and sat there until the sun dropped all the way into the water, orange slice by orange slice.

By the time I got to Half Moon Bay, it was dark and the streets were packed with people leaving the Pumpkin Festival--which I was unable to see in the dark.

Maybe I'll go back there.  Cecelia wrote that she has many happy memories of Half Moon Bay.  With all those pumpkins, I can hardly stand to pass it up.

Before getting into that traffic jam, I'd stopped  to photograph pumpkins and squash, strawberries and grapes and artichokes, all displayed beautifully beside the road.

What a bounty of fresh vegetables and fruits in California!

When I drove into El Cerrito, hungry and bleary-eyed, what to my wondering eyes did appear but....
A Kentucky Fried Chicken stand!  When we made this trip in the Sixties, we always got excited when we saw one of these red-and-white "fast food" places--totally new back then and, we thought, delicious.  I hadn't had one in years, had to have one, and pulled over and gobbled up a two-piece-chicken combo, original.  The potatoes tasted like powdered potatoes.  The chicken--aside from the taste of grease--was nothing like those earlier KFC birds.  Sometimes, just for old time's sake, you get an itch and you have to scratch it, right?

My kind hostess in El Cerrito, has generously invited me to stay here as long as I like!  Just yesterday, I had imagined wanting to go into the city several days, but now that my joints are screaming and I'm living on ibuprofen, I'm thinking I'll just take a leisurely drive over to Marin County tomorrow instead.

I have to be sure to save plenty of time to see the Redwoods--living things that are so much older than I am that I'll get to feel quite young again in their presence!