(Pig picture deleted at photographer’s request. Too bad – the pig’s hair was better than mine!)
I know there are more important things than a bad haircut. Or even just an okay one. I know that. I have been around long enough to discover that hair grows and an unlovely hairstyle will not last. Alas, a flattering hairstyle won’t either, but that is only fair. So, far be it from me to have my nose out of joint because my coiffeuse did just what she said she was going to do and I okayed it. I will not stomp around and ruin everyone else’s day just because I have Joyce hair – a family reference to the unfortunate hairstyle on a character in ‘Midsommer Murders.’ I know better than to let a beautiful sunny day be colored by my less than luxurious locks. To be frank , even a good haircut can’t do all that much when one can’t be bothered to style one’s hair anyway.
That is why I am avoiding mirrors for the next week or so, until I stop looking like Joyce.
In the meantime, I will enjoy an unprecedented day off when it’s not an official holiday and everything is closed. And maybe I will eat a little more chocolate, just because.
I don’t know about where you are, but spring here has been mostly cold and grey and very wet. We’ve kept the heat on way longer than usual. About a week ago the temperature dropped down to freezing overnight and we woke up to frost – something we hardly saw over the winter as it was so mild.
My theory is that a nasty spring is payback for a gentle winter.
But things have changed. For the first time in weeks and weeks, it is sunny and warm and dry! Thursday two unlikely events combined: it was a holiday (Ascension) and the weather was magnificent! Continue reading
A while back I recommended at food website to an old friend. She wrote back to ask which recipes I liked best. Ah.
I hadn’t actually tried any of them. Just pinning them didn’t count. “Haven’t tried it but this one looks good.” That wouldn’t do.
I determined to make one recipe that very week so I could share a real opinion. I settled on this one: Deliciously Ella’s Perfect Stir Fry. Continue reading
Confession time. I’ve been thinking about blogging for some time, but I doubt I would have ever gotten around to starting one except that one day my daughter suggested a name that I thought sounded fun. Then my husband did all the looking around to see if the name was taken and suggested he reserve it, you know, just in case I wanted it later. I said, “Go ahead.” I thought it would make him happy. But then I needed to do something with it. Continue reading
As I write, the sky is blue with puffy white clouds. The sun is out! It is almost even warm. It is, in short, a beautiful day! Even sitting inside is nicer when outside it is sunny.
Used to be that my favorite weather was rain. I loved a good rainy day, but that was before I moved to the Kingdom of Gray. Back when I was young and living in Georgia, rain was refreshing and storms were exhilarating (barring the threat of tornadoes of course). But now a little spot of rain generally means a week of wet stuff, or at least heavy, gray skies that weigh down your every step. Sun, on the other hand, lifts moods and makes everything better. Even the last day of spring break. And while one expects rain to settle in and stay for a while, one presumes that the sun’s visit will be fleeting. So I will enjoy the pleasant weather while it lasts. And tomorrow, I will keep my umbrella handy.
Thought you’d like to hear the big news of the week: my son CLEANED HIS ROOM. Voluntarily. And he didn’t just pick up the stack of clothes that habitually covers the floor. Nor did he just move the various objects from wherever they’d been dropped into a new pile. He threw things away. He cleaned out his closet. He – yes, it’s true – he pulled things out from under his bed (which he admitted to NEVER having done – but let it be said here and now that I at least have attempted this, so the result was not as bad as it could have been). He moved piles and piles of old notebooks and files and folders into the living room (thank you very much) and filled the hall outside his room with a diverse heap of stuff that eventually made its way neatly back into the bedroom. He dusted! He vacuumed! We did not know what to think of it all. My husband hauled five full boxes off to the recycling center.
And the room? Wow. We can see the floor. It has happened before, but floor sightings remain rare and short-lived. We are enjoying it while it lasts and are making frequent trips to visit his room.