The Case of the Horrible Haircut
This story does not have a moral. It is just a story about how I dealt with
the most horrible hairdo I have even been given.
The way I would have dealt with it would have been.
Go to a different salon. Never step foot in the salon where the bad haircut came from.
Never go to the same haircutter again. Ever.
My thoughtful husband bought me a gift certificate to the same salon.
He came home and surprised me with it.
"But. I don't want to." I cried.
I am a huge whimp.
And so I put it off and put it off until my roots were very awful and I had to make a decision.
I did something kind of sneaky. I knew the gal who gave me the awful haircut and color didn't work on Saturdays.
(It's a huge salon)
So I called and made an appointment on a Saturday with someone completely different.
And I think I hit the jackpot. At least so far.
She was super careful about getting close with the highlights.
She listened and really cleaned up the messy bits to the last haircut.
She showed me how to style the back that was such a problem for me.
When I left the salon this time. I was very happy.
Images of Nancy Pelosi are slowly becoming just a bad memory.
I may be a baby for not confronting the last stylist and it may be weird to go to the same salon as the other
woman....but sometimes you just have to do what is in your own best interest.
So that is how I resolved my sticky situation.
The new stylist said it may take at least two more visits before it is looking like it did at first.
(I had two pictures to show her on my phone)
But gosh I appreciate her good work and talent!
Yesterday was just a gorgeous day.
We cleaned and I took pictures and we watched the Masters.
A little neighbor girl hugs her mommy's leg. She is a sweetheart.
So is her mommy.
Eye Candy Dandelion
We watched Have you heard about the Morgans again this weekend.
This sonnet is recited in a very sweet scene in the movie.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
(1564 - 1616)
Encourage one another,