Jaqui's Daily Blog

Sunday 24th June

To colour, or not to colour - that is the question. Actually it's a no-brainer as far as I am concerned.  I am quite keen on ageing gracefully, but I'm not sure I am up to ageing grey-fully - at least not for the time being.

 

Besides I do have my very own, personal, live-in colourist in the shape of Mr B.  Is there no end to this man's talents?   It has to be said that Mr B does not have the easy, set-the-client-at-her-ease type of chit-chat that appears to be a requirement for staff in most hair salons.  No, this is the way our conversation in our Home Salon (also known as the bathroom) unfolds.

 

He starts by shaking the bottle of hair dye with such energy that I fear the cap will fly off and the whole bathroom will, at a stroke, be redecorated in shade 755 of the Nice 'n Easy range of hair colourants.  "No whingeing and moaning!" he instructs as he proceeds to douse my head in ice-cold dye.  I whimper a bit but, heroically, manage neither to whinge nor moan.  Not a hair on my head will escape his prodding fingers, as he kneads away like a man possessed.  This man knows what "total grey coverage" means.

 

Next it's the long wait for the dye to work its magic so Mr B leaves me sitting in the bathroom while he checks up on Poker On-Line.  Every five minutes or so, he yells: "I've got my eye on the time! Not ready yet!"  I wonder what will happen if he gets so engrossed in a game that he forgets me altogether.

 

But no, I should have more faith - he re-emerges to thrust my head under the shower for all the world as if he is washing, say, a cabbage.  He would say that cabbages make much less fuss though presumably that's because cabbages don't have eyes, ears and noses.  I do, so I am spluttering helplessly under the deluge of water as I try to obey his instructions:

 

 "Turn round!"

"Whish way?"

"Hold your head up!"

No answer from me, just a kind of drowning sound......

 

Some people have asked for an update on my relationship with my pedometer.  Well, it's good news.  We are BFF (which means "Best Friends Forever", according to grand-daughter Hazel, who is something of an expert on these things.)  I think my pedometer has got the message at last.  Either that or I really am walking further each day...... 

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Latest comments

26.10 | 14:21

Mmm, was it because there were '24 men kicking a ball' that it didn't end entirely satisfactorily???

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15.10 | 11:13

I don't remember seeing this first time round.... but thank you for sharing with me. You write beautifully, and brought a tear to my eyes. Lots of love xx

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10.10 | 21:37

Jaqui I think your grandchildren are very lucky. You have spurred me on to write a letter to Amelia who like Hazel is away from home for the first time. 💕

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03.07 | 22:43

Wouldn't have missed it for the world. xx

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