12 Oakdale

I may have gone a little too short. During the lock down, Grant and I cut each other’s hair, for better or worse. When we were finally able to buy professional-quality electric clippers, our styles improved somewhat.  Finally, last March, a year after I’d had my last salon hair cut, I braved a local shop and told my stylist OJ to cut it short. She cut much away, and I liked the result, but it wasn’t as short as I really wanted. Two more appointments, she still was timid, but she trimmed a little more each time.  Friday, she struck. Perhaps, just a little shorter than I envisioned, but I was the one to tell her to go as boldly as she dared. I didn’t think she had it in her.  Good man that he is, Grant said he likes it. The rest of my family hasn’t acknowledged my new look. I saw Patten and Molly at Stephanie and Clara’s summer party yesterday, and not a peep from anyone about my hair. I find this especially amusing since Stephanie is in a neon-colored hair phase. Perhaps t...

My first professional  hair cut in over a year. I told OJ to cut it as short as the shortest hairs left from my last home attempt with our clippers. She was skeptical but game. It always grows back. I think my one-inch buzz is the same haircut as my father wore when I was young. His was browner; mine is grayer. Having OJ wash my hair and massage my scalp was delightful. In Naples, there was a Polynesian woman who came into a local salon once a week just to have her magnificent long black hair washed. Now I know what a pleasure that is. Little by little, we seem to be returning to pre-Covid practices. Steph has been called back to her office full time at the end of March, so Clara returned to face school. Governors of several states are relaxing mask mandates. People are congregating. Yet, the numbers are still terrible. Even though they are dropping, they are above last summer’s highest. I think we have fatigue from the pandemic. It may not be over, but people are done with co...

Blue Moon over Lake Down   I’d say that Grant just gave me the worst haircut I’ve ever had, but it wouldn’t be true. The absolute worst was by Bob in Wilton Manors. Normally a fabulous hairstylist, he was just getting started cutting my hair, when he got a phone call from either the IRS or his lawyer, I don’t remember which. As he became more and more agitated about the state of his taxes, my hair received crazier and crazier chops. Eventually he hung up, declared me done. I looked like I’d been attacked with a weed wacker. I actually paid, probably even tipped Bob, and left. I was too shocked to say anything, and he had sharp objects. I never returned, and Bob never called to apologize. Maybe he went to tax prison.  I’ve ordered hair clippers and will give Grant another chance. I may end up looking like a Marine recruit heading to boot camp, but better than it looks right now. Steph and some of my friends are going to hair salons. Others are having beauticians come to their h...

Mangos! As our day blend together, this one will stand out: we had not one, but two new events. After our bike ride, I knocked on the door of the house where there is a mango tree in the front yard and mangos lying all over the ground. I wasn’t hopeful for a response because I’ve never seen anyone home, and a car is sitting, covered, in the carport. Surely, a snowbird happy to not be in Florida now that we led the nation in new coronavirus cases each day. But Vincent answered the door and told me I could take all the mango I wanted. The tree was from Jamaica, and he planted it when it was only 2 feet high. Now it’s huge, and covered with mangos. He warned me they were stringy. They look like the ones we had in Naples. He usually puts a wheelbarrow full of mangos by the street and invites all the neighbors to take as many as they like. This year he hasn’t felt up to it. I biked home for plastic bags and cleaned his yard. Tomorrow I’ll go back and offer to put out the wheelbarrow. ...

June 14, 1969 Dad, Grandma Spaulding, Mom, Me, Steve, Lois Schrimsher When I announced my upcoming nuptials those many years ago, my mother’s friends all responded, “ Oh, June 14th? On Flag Day?” If I hadn’t known before that June 14th was Flag Day, I certainly learned it then. It is hard to imagine I married my first husband 51 years ago today. We were only 19 and thought we knew everything. Our parents thought we were nuts. Probably everyone was a little bit right. My usual practice is to hang my flag up on Memorial Day and leave it up through the Fourth of July. This year, I missed the first, however I’d be danged if Old Glory wouldn’t be flying on Flag Day. Not having nails slowed me down as my little escutcheon pins wouldn’t pierce the siding where I wanted to hang my flag. However, I found a couple of nails pounded in the walls that I was able to pull and recycle after straightening them out a bit. I had ordered a set of various sized nails from Home Depot, but they were o...