The decent into that moody time of the year in the garden
Calendula
A few weeks ago we were at my grandfathers to do some yard work and check the bee hives and I mentioned in passing that I was thinking of getting my sister to cut my hair. My grandfather said that he had cut hair in the military and had cut three woman’s hair aswell, and would be happy to cut mine for me. Que me sitting on his front step in a plastic lawn chair. “How much do you want off?” “About three inches maybe.” He makes the first cut with his scissors that have never been sharpened, and down falls around six inches of hair. At this point I’m telling myself that it’s just hair, even if it turns out like a bowl cut it’ll be a fun memory with my 84yo grandfather. He finishes and I go inside to the bathroom to check his handiwork in the mirror, expecting to be coming up with a plan to salvage what’s left. But. It’s good! It sits at my shoulders and it’s even. It’s not heavy or hot anymore, a bit of bounce is back, curls are forming. I am so pleasantly surprised. I love it. I go back outside and tell him I love it, he did a great job, I don’t have to play anything up to make him feel good. My husband had recorded the whole thing for my sister to watch, and I’m so glad he did - my grandfather is so happy in it.
Roadside Flowers
When Mr. Sparrow decides to land just outside the windows of the room you're working in to sing his serenades
