Making the Cut
by Bella Rum
My five-year-old grand decided she didn’t like her hair so much. When her mother wasn’t looking, she took the scissors to it. Now she’s sporting bangs. I know how she feels. I’m still looking for a new hair stylist. It’s a process. I’ve wanted to find someone closer to my house since we moved. For someone who practically lived on the Interstate (traveling back and forth almost every week to Dad’s), I’ve become picky about how far I’m willing to go for services. I like convenient and simple these days. It feels like a luxury to have the things I need so close by.
I tried a new salon last month. Julie of the many tattoos cut my hair, and left me with the old and too familiar helmet cut. Do they think older women flip over helmet cuts? I found my former stylist by stalking a woman in the grocery store who had a great cut. She was happy to give me the name of her stylist. I haven’t stalked lately, so it’s a wait-and-see situation for now. I’m trying a new salon for my next cut. No worries. There are plenty of salons around here. I’ll find someone. It’s usually the back that’s problematic. It must be the crucial part of a good helmet cut.
I’ll take a pic with me this time. Sometimes that helps. One of these.
We made coq au vin this weekend: too much effort but absolutely delicious and got two meals from it.
Yesterday, H installed a new light fixture in the foyer. Nice. And he’s going to start on the ceiling in our bathroom today. I’ll cut in. The paint has been in there for days. We’re slower than molasses going uphill in January.
Is this month over half over? It’s time to get cracking.