"This is scary," said the Husband, as he cut above a chunk of rubber-banded hair. "Oh-oh." "Hearing you say 'Oh-oh' is scary," I said, keeping my head still. He had two more chunks of hair to cut off. "I wish you'd go to a professional." "Why should I, when I have you—Monsieur Dicky." This morning I woke up with a decision. Several, actually, but those can keep for other posts. Maybe. This decision was to have the Husband cut my hair. He cut my hair earlier this year, and it turned out nicely. Unless people were simply being nice about my haircut. Doesn't matter. I haven't taken a good look at the result yet. He says that the left side is shorter than the right. I told him we have a new style. It's a hairstyle in progress. I cut myself bangs, but I may have cut them too short to be bangs. We'll know once I wash my hair. Yup, you heard right. I didn't wash my hair before having the Husban...

Actually the hair went two days ago -- on Sunday. Clip. Clip. Clip. Clip. The Husband did the whack job for me. The longest strands of hair were about 17 inches long. That was nearly four years of growth. Definitely the longest I ever grew my hair. Nearly four years ago, the Husband and I shaved off all our hair. He did his beard as well. That was the second time we did it. Our reason the first time around was to see how long it would grow in a year.  (Here's the link to that story if you're interested.) As for the second time...uhm, I don't recall. But, after a year went by, we wanted to know how long it would be after two years. Then, three years. After which I just thought of growing our hair as our five-year plan. In the past few months, having long hair became a drag. Depending on how I sat or laid, I'd pull on my hair.  Grooming it daily was a pain. Some days, I pulled it back without combing it. If I went out on those days, I wore a hat. And, washing t...

Really? It's been almost a month since I posted a post. Wish I could say I was traveling or wandering in wonder lust. Nope. Just getting on with life. Dusting and vacuuming a bit more often to keep my facial eczema from flaring so awfully awful that my eyes become swollen. How swollen? The recessive epicanthic folds of my eyelids show themselves. An advantage for me. Nobody thinks anything is wrong with my eyes. Celebrating the husband's 60th anniversary of being born. Every 60-year-old child should have a birthday party complete with bubble wands, darts, and other games. And lots of his favorite food. Finishing a deadline and starting another one. Sigh. I'm boxed in until 12/12/12. So, by golly, the world better not end on 12/21/12! Working on my 40th high school class reunion. The husband doesn't believe me when I say this is the last time I work on a reunion. "Absolutely," I say. "Uh-huh," he says. So, that what has kept me me away from writing ...

Today's letter is "M." Exactly a year ago the husband and I shaved our hair completely off to see how long it would grow in one year. Our experiment is officially over.  The husband says our hair grew about six inches. The husband (obviously!). . . . . .and me—Su- sieee ! Mac (also quite obviously!) For the last two months or so, the husband has received comments about how he looks like ZZ Top. Maybe. No comments for me. At least not to my face. I'd say I look like I'm in need for a hair cut. The overgrown bangs are driving me nuts, big time. "Will we shave it again?" ask our friends. We don't know. The husband is wondering how long it would take for his beard to grow to the middle of his tummy. I liked my bald look. It was easy to handle. But if I keep it growing, I might just dye it either an Anne Shirley carrot-top red or the golden brown of a lion's mane. We shall see. Today also marks a milestone for This and That. Here and There. Now, Some...

Eccentric. Adjective: Unconventional, extraordinary, offbeat, quirky. Noun: Character, individualist, free spirit, odd duck, kook. "My beard is flapping in the wind," said the husband. He was standing patiently next to me as I first snapped photos of a corn maze, then videotaped the corn swaying in the wind. He mentioned his beard flapping in the wind several times that afternoon. As some of you know, the husband and I shaved our hair completely off in January, just to see how long it would grow in a year. The husband also shaved off his beard and mustache. He is allowed to trim his mustache, but no can do with the beard. The husband says his beard is the longest he has ever had it. So, of course, I had to shoot a video of the husband's beard flapping in the wind. Enjoy! If you want to read more (or again) about our haircuts, please click here . This will take you to all the posts (I think) about our hairy adventure. Scroll all the way to the bottom to read about how we c...

Two rambling Fridays in a row. I don't think I'm dedicating Fridays to non sequitur rambles. At least, not yet, dear friendly readers. I'm afraid to make anything be set in stone about this blog, because once I do that I'm sure to sabotage myself. It's like when I pronounce that I shall lose so many pounds by such a date or start walking the Pacific Crest by such an age. Then, I don't. You would've thought at my age I had outgrown the fear of success. Yes, I said it. Fear of success. Not failure. I'm fine with the knowledge that I might attempt something and fail. I just try again, if it (whatever that is) is something I really want or need to conquer. But, then, you may ask, will I continue to fail short because I won't want to succeed? Good question. Maybe because I'm in the middle of doing it (whatever that is), I'm not spinning my wheels thinking about what may happen if I succeed. Hence,  I make my designated finish line. Wanting and/or ...

The Husband. . . and the Me As you can see, the husband's and my hair (hairs?) are now back to being normally short. Click here to see our original state of baldness. As for that bald oval spot on the side of my head, it's almost hidden now without me even trying. But then I wasn't even trying when I didn't have enough hair to cover it. Check it out. That there is a natural comb-over. Any bets on how long the husband's and my hair (hairs?) will get by next January? Or, whose hair will be the longest? 

Hellooooo.  It's time for a photo update of my no longer bald head. Click here for the original look at the beginning of the year. As you can see my hair goes every which way. It looks pretty good from the back. Very disarrayed from the front, regardless of how much brushing I do. I find it interesting that various parts of my hair grow out in different directions. Is it because of the hair cells or the scalp cells? Hmmm, does hair sprout from the skin, beneath the skin, or at the scalp? When hair falls out, does that mean no more hair grows out of that opening? Could that be why I have an oval-shaped bald spot on the side of my head? I wonder. But, will I go find out?

Dear Gentle Readers, I thought I'd let you gander at how my head looks today. :-) I really didn't think it would grow in this quickly. Here's how it looked the first day . It's funny how my head feels lighter today than it did on the day I cut it. Without the hair, maybe stuff in my noggin was able to seep through the skull and evaporate into the air. Poof. Hope it wasn't any of my smarts.

It started by me asking the husband at the dinner table last night, “What’s the longest that your hair has ever grown?” “About halfway down my back,” he answered. “Me, too.” I said. “I could reach behind at my waist and touch it with my fingertips.” “Me, too.” “Have you ever gone bald?” I asked. “No,” the husband replied. “Me, neither.” “I’ ve thought about it.” “Me, too.” The question popped out of my mouth, “Wanna do it?” “Do you?” “How long do you think our hair can grow in one year?” “Dunno.” Throughout last night and this morning, we asked each other, “Wanna do it?” "Shall we?" "What do you think?" "No haircuts for a year?" When we went out this morning to shop for groceries, that’s all we planned to do. Really. Then we saw the hair salon next to the market. And, yeah, we did it. The Shorn Husband. . . and The Shorn Wife