Taking Shape and Hair



View from our front yard

It might be a good idea for me to spring forth in the dead of night to write because i woke up about 2:30 and thought about some pretty funny stuff that would have been great in this blog…but it is 8:10 and those ideas/thoughts are long gone.  Where do things like that go?


And where is that doggone dog leash.  Just about everything it’s time to walk the dog (this happens around 8 a.m and 3 p.m. and 9 p.m., the leash just goes missing.  “Where’s the leash?”, the Rayman just exclaimed.  “I don’t know but I think we need a leash law.”, I cheerfully chirped.  And this is something that just happened so I don’t need to remember it now.


We worked our derrières off yesterday.  The Rayman suffers from a wine glass addiction that heretofore had not come to light.  But unwrapping three, count them, three boxes of wine glasses and finding a home for them in our downsized bay bungalow…and then finding a place to squeeze them in was difficult.  I suggested to him that we use these darlings on a daily basis (Riedels, read expensive) so that we can break them and then they won’t take up so much room.  As luck would have it, three of our 7 margarita glasses broke in the move…so that was a blessing in disguise because those things are monstrous.  Really, folks.  Who ever thought of the shape of those space killers?  Impractical glassware…it must have been a man.


But I digress.  It’s Saturday morning.  It is time to head to the beauty shop, an oxymoron if I ever hear one.  This is where you go to have a person shampoo your hair, a fabulous treat, only to be plunked down in front of a mirror with good lighting so that you can look at yourself with your wet hair pulled back revealing all that you spend a great deal of time hiding.  Discouraging and disgusting all at the same time.  They must do this so you’ll just be happy to get the hell out of that chair and run home and do something that will get your mind off that…which you just witnessed.  Just saying.


Just returned from a trip to the Uncle’s with an SUV full of pictures (art work).  And I don’t know where all of them are going to go…and I can’t part with most of them…they are just too important to me.  What’s a girl to do?  We’re going to do some hanging today.  I’ll let you know.


No pictures on the walls yet.  We got distracted with putting more things away.  And I just cleaned my teeth and now luxuriate in my bed with the Mac (MacBook silly).  I’m amazed at how much stays hidden in my teeth.  Before going to bed I used my water pik.  This is after brushing and cleaning between my teeth with a dentist approved pick that has little feathery pieces of plastic near the tip of one end.  And after all that, about 10 things came flying out into the sink.  Does that type of thing happen to you?  I mean, let me know here folks.  The Rayman says that I am just graced with this special problem.  Which got me thinking, “Am I alone?”.


But I digress.  WE HAVE OPENED ALMOST EVERY BOX AND FOUND A PLACE FOR THE CONTENTS…or we hauled more stuff off to Goodwill.  Both statements are true.  The bigger news is that most boxes are empty.  And the house is starting to take on the feeling of home.


Some casual observations.  There are missing drapes in the master bed.  Most of them are there…but two are missing.  Moving is torture.  We still haven’t found the phone.  Good thing we bought new ones.  There must be missing boxes???  After rearranging the guest bedroom three times, we settled on a layout.  Third time’s a charm?  Rug pads do work.  We found a picture of a bathroom that we like so we are going to use it to do our remodel.  We have three events scheduled for tomorrow.  We are meeting the people from the bay area that we exchanged homes with awhile back.  We will visit over breakfast.  Then, we have a doggie birthday party that was rescheduled because Beau’s sister, Jaycee, couldn’t make it.  Her master was in the hospital that day.  She is back and so we are having a party for the dogs.  At 5 p.m. we are hosting a party for all the folks that let us borrow their blankets for our move (needed at the last minute for wrapping furniture).  Should be about 12 here.  Are we crazy or what?  The Daily Show on Friday was a classic.  Please do yourself a favor and YouTube it or go to the website for the Daily Show and watch it.  It was the about the last night of the GOP convention.  It was brilliant and I want to keep it forever so I can memorize it add quote it at parties…Really, folks, it is THAT GOOD.


After we watched John Stewart and the Daily Show, we watched Austin City Limits on PBS and listened and watched the Dave Matthews Band.  It was fabulous.  I had no idea this group was that good.  Must buy some essential Dave Matthews but I can’t find the essential stuff on iTunes anymore.  What has happened to Essentials?  It is essential that I find out.  That was a great service and it’s gone?


My hair is really short now because I have such a good time visiting with Scot, that I forget to tell him, “Not that much.”  Or, “I would like to have it trimmed 1/4 inch.”  I was, however, 3 minutes late to my appointment this a.m. because I could not find my cell phone.  So, after looking in all the suspected spots, I used our land line and called it.  It rang.  It was in my pocket.  OMG.  I’m losing it.  The funny thing was, Scot, greeted me and then announced, “I can’t cut your hair today.  You are 3 minutes late.”  I loved it.  So, there I was explaining myself to my hairdresser.  And where did they get that word, “hairdresser”  Dressing of the hair?  Really?  Perhaps in the middle ages?  When flowers were placed in the hair?  But, hear me out, people.  We live in the 21st century.  Hairdresser, the word, should be retired.  My stylist.  The cutter of my hair.  My chemist (not any more).  My blower (as in blow drying).  My split end snipper.  But never “my hairdresser.”  Can we all just agree on that?


Time to retire.  Need to get my beauty sleep.  Such as it is.








Leave Comment