I'm taking a break from posting about tomato condiments to insert a few random thoughts.
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I cut my own hair a couple of nights ago. I was sitting in bed reading and my hair was driving me nuts, so I got up and took the scissors to it. Nothing drastic, mind you, I just trimmed it a little and cut some light, wispy bangs. I think
Mark will disagree, but I
needed bangs. I wear my hair pulled back almost all the time in the summer and without bangs, it's just too severe and schoolmarmish. Not to mention, my what a big forehead I have!
The rest of my hair was already layered a bit, and long, so I bent at the waist, brushed it all forward and put it in a ponytail at my forehead. Then whacked about an inch and a half off the end of the pony tail. That got rid of split ends and evened things up, but didn't really change the style or shorten the overall length, which is fine with me.
For the bangs, I pulled all of my hair back in a headband, used a comb to pull forward just a small amount of hair at the hairline, and cut the bangs very long, then just gradually trimmed them up. They still need some time to not want to part in the middle on their own.
This was an exercise in self-confidence; I simply made up my mind that I
can cut my own hair. While this isn't the best haircut in the world, it's as good as most of the salon cuts I've had. It was also quicker and cheaper than paying someone else to do it.
Of course, it helps that my hair is naturally
poofy curly and very forgiving of mistakes. It also helps that I'm not especially vain.
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Here at the Haphazard Homestead,
communication is key. We keep each other
in the loop. And by this, I mean we tell each other the most mundane of plans.
"I'm going downstairs to flip the laundry."
"I'll be outside watering the garden if you need me."
"I'm taking a shower now." (Important info, since we only have one bathroom and someone's sure to need in before a shower is done.)
"I'll be in the garage trying to find that doohickey that I need to fix that thingamajig." (Which also implies,
"If I'm not back within an hour, send the rescue team.")
Seriously, we hardly breathe without announcing our intentions to each other. I don't remember doing this in my childhood home. There were eight of us during the full house days. It was every man for himself, and the bathroom was first come, first serve.
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Screw the current heat advisory -- we have A/C in our camper and we know how to use it. Besides, we're due for some rain, and it rains almost every time we go camping. Heading to camp this weekend can only be to our advantage.
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Speaking of swimming (yes, I was speaking of it, indirectly), this picture of Shane from our last camping trip stirred up a bit of conversation on my real-life Facebook page. Why is it that these are perfectly fine as swim trunks, but that he'd never be caught dead in a floral if they were street shorts? I tried to interest him in wearing kilt the other day, but he wouldn't hear of it. I thought it would go well with his red hair.
