Hair

Even though it's not cold today, the wind is howling. I'm not a big fan of the wind – it can cause too many problems. For instance, there are still loose random pieces of metal laying on the ground around the construction project next door. We called and let them know a couple of days ago when those pieces blew out into the street. The metal was moved from the street – and laid up next to the fence between the two properties. So for three days now we've heard that metal bang against the fence posts. At least the fence is stopping it from blowing over in our yard or against the Jeep!

Hubby had to crawl out of bed and into his clothes early yesterday morning so he could get the trash out to the street before the trash truck came by. It was much too windy Tuesday afternoon to put it out. Loose trash and other trash cans are blowing around the neighborhood.

For some reason this afternoon, one really strong gust of wind took me back to high school. We had the three different buildings, we had a dresses-only rule for the girls, and it was the late 60's and the era of the mini-skirt. I flashed back to really windy days when we were running from the classroom building to the gym building for lunch. And when the wind was really strong, there was always the mental struggle........do I hold onto my hair to try to keep it from blowing all around, or do I hold onto my skirt?? Of course, the skirt always won out. But some days it was a tough decision!

I've always had a love/hate relationship with my hair........and, to be honest, it's mostly been hate on my part. My hair has always had some natural curl to it – not enough for me to use to my advantage, but enough to seemingly give my hair a mind of its own. In the past 10-15 years, it has become a lot curlier, which has been a bit strange.

As far as I knew, kids my age didn't go to the beauty parlor for haircuts. Maybe others did, but it certainly wasn't part of my culture. Mom cut my hair. Most of the time it was kept really short, though there are a few photos when I was 4 that I had enough hair for pigtails – like Kathy in “Father Knows Best”. My hair was kept really short during the summer, then allowed to grow out enough for a perm when school started.

I know now that I had a different upbringing as an only child than my friends with siblings had. I think just because we were all used to the routine, Mom did my hair. I wasn't ever taught how to brush or curl my hair – and it never occurred to me to do it myself. Mom washed it, curled it, permed it, and brushed it. That's just how it was. I had a classmate who was from a family of five, four of them girls. I often wondered how her mom found the time to get everyone's hair done every morning for school.

The fall I was in 5^th grade, things got curious when my grandfather was having surgery and Mom was gone for several days at two or three different times. I was left during school with my hair, and not a clue as to what to do with it! And Dad was no help. Between us we managed to get the tangles brushed out and I remember resorting to wearing a headband to corral it out of my face. And still it didn't occur to me to learn how to brush or curl my hair! It amazes me now.

I finally rebelled around sixth grade. I didn't do it well, by any means. But, by golly, I curled and did my own hair! I don't know if Mom was glad or sad. But I know Dad rebelled when I started washing my hair every other night. It truly did need it, but we were still out on the farm with no running water. That extra hair washing meant a lot more night trips to the well.

I've irritated my own kids by cutting their hair at times, but it was usually out of economic necessity. They looked much better when they had a professional do it! And I feel like I still struggle with my hair. Every time I try a different style, I insist the stylist show and talk me through how to do it myself – they usually respond well when I tell them I'm hair illiterate!