Goodbye to the Dirty Harry of Pruning

My Grandmother Knew That Things Grow So Fast in California, You Always Have to Be Cutting Back

She left us only recently, and already San Mateo has gotten way too leafy.

As I drove through that fine Peninsula city in the Bay Area on the way to my grandmother’s memorial service earlier this month, the plants had returned to their old arrogance. Bushes off Hillsdale Boulevard were growing far bushier than they once dared. The trees along Alameda de las Pulgas flaunted branches that hung much too low. All over the neighborhood, flowers breathed far too easily.

Frances Mathews, who passed away a few months short of her 100th …

I’m a 77-Year-Old Biker Babe

Just Because I'm a Great-Grandmother Doesn't Mean I'm Not a Badass

I’m a 77-year-old Biker Babe—that would be me. And my Biker Boy is no boy— he’s pressing 60 although he doesn’t look it. When I first started riding Harleys about …