Hair

 Storm Chandra

Woke up on Tuesday in the middle of a howling gale and our latest storm this time called Chandra and my heart sank as I remembered I have a hair appointment in Plymouth with my hairdresser of 20 years, Amanda.  I was worried because I had cancelled my last appointment a couple of weeks ago because of the stormy weather.  

I was disappointed to miss having my hair done, usually a few highlights and a trim.  I have always suffered with my unruly hair and can still hear my grandmother admonishing me with the words “brush your hair”, my husband Martin  says the first words he heard from my father when he was introduced to him back in 1982 was, “what’s that mop on your head?”  The ‘mop’ was just my unruly hair.  So when I found Amanda in Plymouth in the late 1990’s I found the answer to control it.  I had gone to her for a perm in a vain attempt to control my ‘mop’.  When I returned a couple of years later for a trim, (I wasn’t in the habit of going regularly,) she said that a good haircut would help and that I didn’t need a perm and so I have never had a perm since and my curls have been tamed. 

 In my mid-fifties I decided to have blond highlights to ward off the greys that had started appearing and so I have been a blond ever since.

Martin has not been to a barber since lockdown where he found that a buzz-cut from the dog clippers would do just fine.  So every five or six weeks I am summoned to do the honours.  The Ronchetti hair is like fine needles it is so thick and Martin is lucky to still have a full head of hair but I have to wear protection when I am wielding  those dog-clippers.  Those short hairs can get everywhere.  Martin himself sits half naked in a black bin-liner with a special hair-guard around his neck.  The sight can look quite amusing. 

I spent a lot of my teens trying to grow my hair long.  When I started school my father cut my locks off short.  The fashion in the mid sixties was very ‘Audrey Hepburn’ or ‘Julie Andrews’ as seen in My Fair Lady or The Sound of Music. My Aunty Audrey was a hairdresser and admonished him severely when she discovered what he had done to my hair especially as I was soon to be a bridesmaid to her daughter  cousin Ann.  She did quite well with it on the day though and made me look quite angelic.

  However when I tried to grow it long again after often being mistaken for a boy, I would get fed up and chop it short when it got to shoulder length, so most of my childhood photos I have short hair.

Throughout last Tuesday the storm did not abate.  I posted a video of it on my facebook account and plucked up the courage to let Amanda know I wasn’t coming.  She was lovely about it and completely understood when she saw the video.  

The Lakes



We set off for the Lake District on Friday un-coiffured, it’s probably for the best as the forecast is for more rain up there and possibly snow!  Will report on our lake adventures next week.

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