Almost daily diary!

Friday, March 30, 2012

The Hairdressers

"How about a thicker fringe?" My new hairdresser drawled in that sort of knowing way that they have. I agree - do I never learn? She starts to chop and long strands fall into my lap. I look down at them, feel their weight. The brown is flecked with grey now, just a little and the strands attempt to form curls beneath my fingers. I am reminded of the twists of hair that my grandmother used to keep all wrapped in tissue paper inside a pink box on her dressing table, my mothers hair I think, cut from her head when she was a small baby. As a child I was fascinated by the small curl. It resembled hair, light brown and not at all as my mothers was in adulthood but already aged in a way, lifeless and old before its time.

I wondered where I had put the curls from my children, that I collected during their first hair cuts. After several house moves they could be anywhere and had I labelled which curl had belonged to which baby? Probably not.

I picked up the little ball of hair from my lap as she swung me around to 'look at the back' before ushering me to the till - and the colossal bill. I held the severed hair, my hair, not wanting to drop it to the floor. It was warm and resembled, for a moment, a small mammal that needed nurturing.

"Would you like to book your next appointment?" She enquired.

I declined

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Forever (Fictional)

Forever he'd said.

She thought about the word. Mostly she tried hard not to use it but this was due to experience rather than devotion. Forever, she thought, is like a slippery fish, the brave one who tries to escape the fish bowl but lands up hitting the lino. The one that you try to scoop up with the fish slice just before its' last gasp and then realise - once it's back in the water - that you've managed to leave its left fin stuck to the floor and now it can only swim around in bloody circles. That's what forever is like; you look at it swimming around in circles and wonder if you'd have been better off just walloping it over the head with the handle of the fish slice and putting it out of its misery!

That had been her experience of forever. Not to say that it hadn't been very real to start with. No, it had really felt like it would be forever but it had got damaged somehow, lost its way and finally someone had had to put it out of its misery. Who was brave enough to hit the fish over the head? The final blow; 'I'm leaving you'... It seemed a such a long time ago now.

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

Help! Now my Mum wants to blog!

I expect her to arrive about 12.45. By 1.15 I start to worry and text her - are you OK or shall I come and get you?

For months now Bristol Water have been digging up the roads around here, they have almost made it impossible to get to my house at all, we are marooned in a sea of deep holes, orange barriers and blue pipework! To make matters worse, Mum has no homing pigeon genes at all, in fact when I was small she would drive her little red Mini into Cheltenham (where we had always lived) park up, take me shopping and then forget where she had parked it. Sometimes we walked several streets before coming across the car, usually by accident.

Anyway, she was half an hour late. After texting her she called back, a little sad and defeated. She was lost, only about 3 streets away but lost all the same. No problem, I told her, I'll come and get you. (Last time she followed the road diversions and eventually found us but this time it was all too confusing.) Poor Mum.

An hour and a half and a few cups of tea later we pick up the children from school, who were very excited to see Granny. The volume rose considerably during the journey with chatter and singing and silliness. "I remember when you said you had the most amazing mum in the world" says Granny to Tall Girl and she agrees. Then Small Sprog pipes up "I've got an amazing mum too but sadly she couldn't be with us today!"
"Thanks Small Sprog!" I fake indignity before we all explode with laughter. He then proceeds to rattle off his current stash of 'oneliners' especially for Grannies delectation. How does he do it?

At home Tall Girl shows off her latest muse, her blog. Yes, she has started blogging and so far been quite successful getting comments after only her first post. She is delighted and excited and glued to it as much as I'd like to be. However now that she is blogging Small Sprog also wants one, he wants to call it "Maybe Broccoli Doesn't Like You Either".

Before she leaves Mum says "When you next come up, can you show me that blogging thingy?"
"You want to blog?"
"Do you know what?" she smiles "I think I do"

Bang goes my anonymity then!

And talking of bloggers, this morning before Mum arrived I met Maggie from Nuts in May for the first time, along with her sometimes blogging son Sam. We shared tea and a few hours chatting together, it was lovely. She is a lot like her blog, she seems very kind and gentle and is softly spoken. We've probably 'known' each other now for nearly 4 years. I hope we can continue in both worlds now we have met virtually. Thanks for meeting up Maggie.

I told Tall Girl all about the meeting. "Maybe I will meet up with someone commenting on my blog one day" She says with glee "Theres' someone commenting from Italy I'd like to meet"
Bristol was easy, I thought, Italy might be trickier but isn't it great still this blogging thing?

Friday, March 02, 2012

Baa Humbug

World Book Day, how I hate it! Now I know that does sound a bit Baa Humbug but dressing up is not my thing, well not 'that' sort of dressing up anyway!

Most adults at work just go ahead and hire dresses from the local costume hire shop, which is OK if you have loads of spare cash to splash (baa humbug) but it's only school and I'm only there for half a dressing up day.

The theme is 'fairy tale characters', I decide to go as Dick Whittington's cat, easy; dress in black, put on my boots, dig out Small Sprogs monkey tail (not a surprise that he has one of those really is it?!) and make some ears. I made the ears. I looked like a panda with them on, they really weren't the right shape. Bum. I went to the local costume hire shop.

"Do you have cat ears?" I ask unenthusiastically. The shop assistant shows me a pair for £4.50 that come with a tail and a bow tie. A bow tie? I see... 'that' sort of a cat.
"Or these are £6" She muses showing me a pair of black ears with provocative 'tufts' of white. I settle for the pack of three and go home.

Later on my Significant Other notices the bag lying on the bed. "Ah, cat ears?" He says with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yep" I answer begrudgingly "With a tail and bow tie"
His eyes brighten.
"Obviously I won't be wearing the bow tie to school"
He looks crestfallen.
"Maybe another day?" He looks hopeful!

He may wait sometime, the baa humbug is still in me!