Wednesday, 25 March 2020

Raise Your Right Hand, Ms

I knew it was going to happen.

I just didn't think it would be so soon that I would give in to the lack of excitement and cut my hair.  It's still wet, so no photo.

However, it has made me take up thinking.  Again, sooner than I expected.  I have had enough sort-of success cutting my own hair in the past so I felt pretty much that a sort-of success would be OK.

It made me think of two haircut experiences, not on my own hair, that I've obviously pushed way to the bottom of my brain.

One included my sister Mary who is 17 years younger than I am and who allowed me to give her a cut that I'd seen in a magazine.  We sat her on a kitchen stool and pulled her hair up to high on the top-of-her-head elasticized position, then cut off all the hair above the elastic.  You can imagine......actually, I hope I'm still only imagining.  Given that I love my sister sincerely, it's hard to believe I actually did it.

The other focusses on my youngest daughter, Emily. I always cut her hair from the time her platinum blonde first became real to us.  Because it was very thin hair at the time, I thought I could make it sort of pixie-like, and shaggy, and had been doing it for a year or two when one of my gay friends begged me to show some respect for her.  He cried the next time he saw her, 6 months later.

I now and officially beg forgiveness from the two of them.

Monday, 23 March 2020

Lorna Vs Nature

I have never felt I had much interest in nature, and today, I got a chance to see that Nature knew that and intended to reminder me who is boss.

I really felt I should go out for a walk, and remembering that since yesterday, we had had sunshine, rain, more sunshine and snow, I dressed warmly, put on my boots that have little spikes when I need them and headed out from our patio, so I wouldn't have to worry about using the same door that all our other residents will be using, if they go out.

I took about 5 steps, arrived at the place where the lawn leans down to the still-snowy sidewalk, and with my next step, I landed on my back, bumping my head, and slid down about 5 feet to the sidewalk.  For some reason, I thought this was hilarious and I lay there laughing for a minute, then got up, uselessly tried to get the snow off my clothes and headed for the War Museum, which is part of my short walks.  There were a lot of geese there, but no people, so it was pleasant, but getting cold.

By  the way, anyone who knew me before the last 10 years or so, would have been gobsmacked to see that I was wearing warm clothes, not pretty ones, including mittens that would be just the right size for a wrestler.

I had my walk, never saw a person, and headed for home.  By then,  more snow had landed, so I decided to be more careful and got off the sidewalk at the part of the building that was easily reached from the sidewalk....a step or two.  Two steps that left me lying down, this time with my face and knees in the new snow, and there I was again laughing hilariously, but this time, just pissed off a bit. 

I got back in the house with no further excitement, expecting that Dave might baby me a bit, but he just reminded me to be sure to hang my wet stuff .

Not even two dark chocolates and a handful of cashews have brought me back to the sentiments I was hoping for.  And I have a headache. Nature 1, Lorna 0.

Sunday, 22 March 2020

How time flies!

So, here I am, on a Sunday morning, and I've put on spring clothes for the first time this year, and I've brushed my hair, and in an hour or so, I'll be watching my daughter Emily leaving a song or two on Facebook.

It's not easy to remember how different things are when you're in your own apartment, able to have conversations with people who are farther away than a condo balcony and yet dealing with the fact that you can't just zoom out and buy a chocolate bar at the neighbourhood chocolate bar place. Ah, I shouldn't make that nice neighbourhood store sound like there's nothing but chocolate there, although I actually can't confirm it or deny it, as chocolate is all I've ever bought there.

Earlier, I had a strange discussion with myself about whether or not to add mascara to my strangely-inefficient-recently-smoothed-on-my-face make-up.  In the end, I went for it, telling myself that I'm a mascara person and have been so since I was 16 and some virus isn't going to make me give that fun up. Almost right away, other-me jumped up to remind me that really, I do that for myself, so I can't expect Dave to notice improved eyelashes. (Dave, you know that I sometimes write what I think is amusing rather than what is real)

Today, our daughter Emily is going to post a musical something she and her partner will perform on Facebook, and it's reminded me of how much she and I sang together one spring, sitting together in the car, getting her ready to prove she should be in the music class the next year.  As it turned out, she took dance, but that seemed like a possibly great decision, and it would have been if she hadn't left school to become a Starbucks person.  All to say that she still loves music and I love to hear her make it, and instead of Starbucks, she works for the Canadian Museum of History. "Too much babbling!!!" Emily is thinking, I imagine.  And it wouldn't be
the first time.....