Hair Raising

It’s been a strange couple of weeks.

Other than Mike venturing to the end of the drive to take the recycling boxes out we haven’t left the premises for over a month now. Everything is delivered, including the groceries, and left at the gate. It’s been a time for establishing a new routine and getting used to the ‘new normal’. After much heart searching we decided to suspend work on the greenhouse area for now, other than the stuff we can finish off ourselves. If I’d thought all this confinement would give me endless days relaxing in the garden I’d have been wrong. It’s an anxious time for all of us and the usually therapeutic effect of immersing myself in blooms has yet to cut through. COVID-19 can be a truly horrible thing to have, as UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson has found out for himself. I wonder what he thinks of ‘herd immunity’ now.

In some ways nothing has changed, in others everything has changed. We mostly stayed close to the house before. But when you can’t go out, how often do you come across things that you really, really need? Usually there is a workaround. Given the level of suffering being endured in the world most of our challenges are trivial in comparison. Take yesterday morning for example:


Him: “My hair needs cutting.”

Me: “Of course you’ll know that I’ve never had any training in hairdressing in my life.”

Him: “Isn’t there an online course you could do?”

Me: “Unlikely. It’s a practical sort of thing. The only way to learn is to launch in with the scissors and give it a go. Trial and error..”

Him: “But it’s Husband’s hair!”

Me: “It’ll grow back. And when it does I can always try again.”



The hairdresser’s chair..


Me: “Whoops..”

Him: “Could we have less of the ‘Whoops’.”

Me: “I’ve nicked my finger with the scissors!”

Him: “I didn’t ask for a henna rinse.”



Mike stood in front of the hall mirror. I asked him what he thought: “Well, it’s better than it was..”


So that’s alright then. I think. There’s just one problem remaining. Who cuts the hairdresser’s hair?

I’ve already hacked into my fringe. Twice in fact. In an effort to avoid blocking the bathroom sink I thought I’d done a really good job of catching the hair and dropping it into the bathroom bin. Well no, it seems. It sticks to the sides of the bin apparently and is a right bugg*r to get out. And the second time I may have approached the cutting task a little over-enthusiastically. But at least my fringe is no longer floppy. There is nothing worse than a floppy fringe.

The rest of my hair is heavily layered. For expediency I decided the best course of action was to grow the layers out. It’s not straightforward. As they lengthen the layers are doing funny things. Some are pulling inwards and creating a flattened effect around the top of my ears while the layers below that want to flick out. It’s created a shape not entirely dissimilar from Darth Vadar’s helmet. The trick I think, unless anyone can advise differently, will be to just keep trimming the baseline until everything ends up at the same level. Except. How to reach the back? Won’t someone else have to do that? Dear god..


Him: “I could stick some masking tape to the back of your neck, to ensure an even line?”

Me: “Mike, just get on with it..

..1cm off. Straight across the back, ear to ear..