In Search of the Perfect (DIY) Waves

plus, naked and—finally—unafraid

Welcome readers, old and new!

Please hit the ❤️ above to remind all mature HNTFUYF-ers why we’re still kicking.

Last week my daughter-in-law arranged an overnight girls’ trip at a mountain/seaside resort for the two of us and my granddaughter, M. (Dad was working.) The activities involved a lot of bathing suit time in a heated pool and an equal amount of naked time in an onsen (or hot spring). It was the naked time I had second thoughts about, as I tried to explain to D-I-L that it wasn’t exactly customary for a D-I-L in the U.S. to hang around naked with her M-I-L. Pooh-pooh, you might say, get over it, but I had all kinds of projections about the effects remembering my 73-year-old naked body might have on D-I-L’s mental health.

“No problem for me,” she said—and I wisely took her word for it. Because the stunning ease around our nakedness was one of the many highlights of the trip.

When we undressed for the onsen for the first time, M looked at my breasts with effusive delight. “Grammie!” she cried, “I didn’t know you had these!” She reached up to pat them gently. “They’re so fluffy!” she said. “Amazing!”

As we relaxed into the hot water, I showed her the cesarean scar her Daddy emerged from 40 years ago; her response, “But does it still hurt?” allowed me to explain some of the miracles of modern medicine. And I watched with quiet joy her total comfort—and all the other women’s—around our nakedness. I realize this is only a narrow slice of the onsen experience, but there’s beauty here worth acknowledging.

Also worth acknowledging: A simple routine that solved a reader’s major hair styling problem.

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