Much to my shock and delight, my granddaughter and her mom went and picked up groceries and a prescription for us today. Wow! And then they came back and Kaity dyed my hair, then trimmed it.
The last time she trimmed it was the end of January 2016. In between, I snipped a little off here and there when it got especially ragged and lately it had grown quite long. Which is often the result of not cutting my hair for a year-and-a-half.
Kaitlin felt strongly that I shouldn’t have cut my own hair. Self-cut-hair is, as she put it, a hack job. I pointed out that I had several times — like maybe more than several times — suggested she could trim it, but she hadn’t. She was sure it was just a few months ago that she cut it, but since it was more than mid-back length, that was not likely. My hair doesn’t grow that fast.
She pointed out that no one “had ever called her dependable.”
I agreed. I certainly had never said anything like that.
In June, I had bought dye for my hair. Called “vanilla white,” it’s basically white and ashy. I was hoping it would pull the yellow out of my hair. Our well water is full of iron and it turns my hair yellow, no matter what I do. I hadn’t found any way to get the yellow out of my hair or remove the iron from the water since it appears to be part of the earth.
Amazingly, the color did the job. The hair came out a nice, even white.
Then she trimmed off about 3-1/2-inches of my hair.
I went into the “long-haired woman-after-a-haircut” shock. It happens every time I get my hair cut. Even when it’s a half-an-inch trim, I go into shock. This was quite a bit of what is left of my hair, but to be fair, it needed cutting. It looks thicker and healthier when it is a bit shorter.
It’s still long enough to tie back, but it’s not long anymore. It looks fuller and the color is improved. And it will grow. Presumably.