Shorn

Finally, after 16 weeks between haircuts rather than my usual 6 weeks, I have had my locks sheared off. Blame the time frame on my broken pelvis since I was overdue for a haircut when I took that fall. I've waited so long because sitting in a salon chair did not appeal to my sore butt.

My hair grows fast. This time one of my sons asked if I were growing it out. As if. I wore my hair long for years and years, but when my older daughter was getting married, I had it all cut off, voting with scissors not to look like an aging hippie in her wedding photos. What a good decision. No more hair in my eyes; no more waiting for it to dry; no more fighting the cat for ponytail holders (and one wonders why they like to play with them).

I pay more for a haircut here on Key B ($45 +tip) than I did in Fort Lauderdale ($17 total), but it's a fancier process. The results are about the same, longish pixie cut, but Alex's effort is more intense. He cuts off bits with the razor, measures each side against the other, cuts some more, measures some more, repeat, repeat, repeat. When I think he is done, he gets out scissors and snips here and there. A little more with the razor, more snips, measuring, different scissors and more snips, more measuring. Eventually he deems it done. I have to say, a great hair cut.

When he used a hairdryer to blow off all the little snips and razored bits, some got in my nose and reminded me of when I made a cape and muff from my Grandmother Spaulding's vintage mink stole, which was refashioned from a full length coat originally belonging, I think, to a great aunt. This was my first time working with fur, and I cut away with my scissors, not thinking that I would be cutting the hair at the same time as I cut the skins. I was sitting where a fan blew on me, so tiny bits of mink fur swirled around, and, as I breathed in, a lot went up my nose. I quickly figured out to cut the skin from the back with a sharp knife and eventually sneezed out all those tiny bits of hair.

Me in the Original Coat in Front of Our Trailer  

The cape and muff were Christmas presents for my older daughter the year she was reading the Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingles Wilder. My daughter was enchanted by the cape and muff worn by one of the characters. Even though we lived in South Florida, my daughter and her girlfriends loved dressing up as pioneers wearing mink. After being worn by other children and friends, the mink cape and muff are now in Okinawa, waiting for our granddaughter to be old enough to enjoy them. I have some pieces left from the stole, and someday I may use them in another project. The pelts are in good shape even though they must be 70 years old. I hope I can say that about myself in a few weeks.