This morning, as I walked into town, I passed a lady on a bench. I’ve been saying good morning and afternoon to her for years. She used to have a big old lumbering dog but I think he must have died of old age because she hasn’t had him for a long time. Now I generally see her resting on the same bench on her way back from shopping.
This morning was different in that I saw her in the exact same place I saw her yesterday on my way back from the shops. I was trying to think of some smart comment but she beat me to it.
No, I haven’t been home yet,” She said as I drew level with her.
I burst into laughter, making her smile broadly.
I was a bit later going into town today because I had an appointment with Cacheta, my wonderful hairdresser who I thought had amazing long, luxurious locks of hair. As I discovered today, she actually wears extensions and her own hair is quite short. I was shocked.
She proceeded to fill me in on the whole hair extension rigmorale required in order to look good. This turned the conversation to the efforts that women go to to convince a man how appealing they are (the women not the men).
In that way that hairdressers have, the conversation cycled through all sorts of subjects from oversized breasts to making a jus to the joys of Edinburgh. Normally I find the sort of mechanical conversations while ‘in the chair’ a bit annoying but Cacheta is always a joy and I actually look forward to seeing her every ten weeks.
I never think it looks like it needs cutting but, somehow Cacheta works her magic and it looks much better when I leave.
While I was sat in the chair entertaining and being entertained by Cacheta, a lady came in wanting a redesign of her hair. She started off by suggesting that the stylist just go for it but then proceeded to tell her what not to do. It was a long list.
The discussion, on the whole, was also long and involved with a lot of to and fro but the bit that really stood out was whether she wanted a fringe or not. There followed a long explanation of how she had a fringe a long time ago but then stopped. She was now considering a return to the fringe. She finished this by saying “I am on the cusp of a fringe decision.” Brilliant.
Of course, given the rain I walked through on the way home, my hair didn’t look quite as good when I walked into the house, which reminded me, yet again, that I really should take the ‘after’ photo as soon as it’s finished.
The rest of the day was spent in my office researching the final few entries on the Walton-on-Thames war memorial as the weather came and went outside and my heater worked overtime.