Be Sociable, Share!
Be Sociable, Share!
Be Sociable, Share!
Be Sociable, Share!

The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor


The Architect


Haircuttin’ the Country Way

My mom went to beautician school way back in the 60’s. She would cut my hair, put it up in a bouffaunt which I would prompty go brush out with my fingers and the worst was when she would wash it with vinegar while I screamed, “It smells like pickles!!!”

She wouldn’t let me grow my hair long until I was in junior high. Mom always thought I looked best with a short pixie cut and for that reason most people thought I was a boy. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I wore Billy the Kid jeans and cowboy boots and my favorite toy was a shotgun accompanied by a holster with two six shooters. I wanted to be a cowboy, dang-it.

Mom also wouldn’t let me do any sort of chemical process to my hair. So, while my sister was highlighting and perming her hair I had to sit back and watch with envy as she transform her hair into something new and trendy. Then the summer before my sophomore year in high school I made an appointment in the trendiest local beauty salon and asked for a perm. It didn’t fry my hair or turn it green like Mom feared. But, it did make my hair even whiter and frizzy like a poodle. That’s when boys started calling me April the Albino, it was that white. So, I stayed away from perms for a few years.

Mom had kept all her supplies, including one of those huge dryers you sit under, we always had rollers, clips, drapes, razors and scissors. It wasn’t weird that I would cut my bangs and most of the time they looked okay. Then I started cutting other people’s hair. There were several boys that were friends of mine that would come out, sit on a stool out in our sunroom and I would cut their hair in weird patterns. My friend, Brian, wanted a zigzag cut into the back of his hair, so I did a zigzag and then older folks kept asking him if he was the youngster that had been in the car accident earlier in the year and had to have brain surgery. I never said I was good at cutting hair, it was just something I did, and for some reason a few people trusted me enough to work on their heads and then walk around in public.

Now, I have my own hair salon. It’s in a nice breezy place. I don’t have many customers and the few I do have, never leave with a smile on their face.

They come in my swanky salon, sit in my chair and give me cautious looks.

Sometimes they comment that at least the view is good. I never know if that’s a compliment or not. Then I throw a torn plastic drape over them.

They bolster their courage and put on a brave display.
I like to help them relax by asking a lot of questions.

How was your Christmas?

Did you get some fun new toys?

Did you get any candy in your stocking?

How’s your folks?

I heard your mom is a really nice lady. Tell her I said, “Hi” and come back again real soon.

Be Sociable, Share!