Thread 7 - TalkLair: “In fact it’s an oblate spheroid”

[Kucinghitam]

Continuation of previous threads (thread 6).
The new lair of JTT escapees is all cosy and homey; we have truly settled here. Outside, the garden is blooming with spring flowers. Inside, the hearth is glowing, pictures are up on the walls, rugs are down on the floors (and assorted pets curled up on them).

We just won’t mention the gnawed bones of our prey over there in the corner of the cave…

I was woken up this morning by the smell of fresh cat sick from under the bed.

A suboptimal method of waking. I think I'll stick with Radio 3.

How horrible, pike!

Can’t remember if it was here, JTT or Twitter where someone posted they should have an alarm ring tone of a cat yakking its guts up, it’d get the most determined snooze button-presser out of bed.

That would definitely work ChezKuc! Doesn't even have to get to the actual boak-boak-boak sound, just the pre-warning "Idon'tfeelsogoodyowlyowlyowl" is enough to launch me out of bed faster than a Saturn V.

That's a good idea on the alarm sound, that would do the trick.

Went to have my hair cut this afternoon and made the hairdresser cry. Nothing awful, been going to her for years and we got on very well. When I went to pay another young woman who works there was standing nearby and I said to her that she reminds me of my niece, who is a lovely woman. Hairdresser then says 'Who do I remind you of?' and I looked at her for a moment and said 'You're like a Fairy God Mother figure', whereupon she shrieked, hugged me and became a bit tearful. It was quite sweet.

Awww! I realised my hairdresser’s value during the first Covid lockdown. As someone lazily negligent about hair care, I never would have thought the hairdresser would be one of the services I missed the most. I’ve over-tipped her ever since.

I'm back home in Worthing and Francis is pleased to see me but not being a total lunatic about it. Django is out galavanting and hasn't come in yet. I've bought my neighbours a Bakewell tart because I'm a lovely neighbour and they've done me a huge favour by looking after my boys.

Mavis, I really missed having my hair cut too. By the time the salons opened again, I looked like the Feral Kid from Mad Max and it was a big relief to have my hair cut again.

Name change again back to more "me" identity.

I went a bit experimental with hair colours in lockdown, tried out pink, purple and blue - none of them worked that well, but it was good to get them out of my system. Now back to my normal bright red, which at least matches most of my accessories. Checkout guy in Aldi was admiring my coordinating hair, jacket, trainers, handbag - made me feel slightly embarrassed then getting into my red car in sight of his till.

Hound was awake again at 6:45 this morning, being on his own has definitely changed his circadian rhythms.

My lockdown hair experiment was layers. Which were the reaaon I'd given up going you hairdressers in 2004. Every time I used to say 'iIt's curlier than you think. No layers'. Every time they'd cut in layers, dry it and go, 'OK, it's quite curly, isn't it?' And I'd be left with a frizzy mess.

Turns out, If I cut layers myself and dry it properly for curls, they work quite well.

I'm still not planning to ever cross the threshold of a hairdresser though.

My hair’s really long because of all those months without a hair cut. Down to my bra strap!

I will go back to neck length again, because all I do is put my hair up anyway, but it’s in good condition so there’s no rush, and I probably won’t ever grow it long again.

I go for a collar length layered bob as it's easy to look after and doesn't get in my eyes at work. There isn't really anything I can 'do' with my hair and I regard it as a sort of symbiotic creature that lives on my scalp. I look after it but it does what it wants, which is often to look different every day, sometimes sleek and sometimes wavy.

Heh! I go to the Kurdish barbers down the road every month or so, where they give me a number 5, take <10m, and donotengageinsmall_talk.

Bliss. But I did have very long hair in my teens, leading to all sorts of misunderstandings. I finally had it all lopped off at Sweeney's in Beauchamp Place in 1972, very trendy and posh. Felt liberated.

Do Kurdish barbers set fire to your ears like Turkish ones do?

They will, but they make you ask and even pay.

Wax up the schnozzle and down the lugs is popular there. I think they do remove it when cold - but who knows?

Saw a book recommendation somewhere on Mumsnet, so have just started reading it, and have already cried 4 times in the first 30 pages.

”A Terrible Kindness” by Jo Browning Wroe, about a newly qualified embalmer who volunteers after the Aberfan disaster. 30 pages and four cries is good going even for me, an inveterate crier!

It’s reminding me of Maeve Binchy so far, spare writing that somehow evinces emotions without excessive language.

My hair revolution during lockdown was to stop dying it and go grey. I figured since nobody much was seeing me anyway it didn't matter how awful it looked. I quite like my grey hair now and it's a lot cheaper going to the hairdresser.

The joy of long hair is that it doesn’t matter if you don’t cut it for a year, it makes little difference to your appearance.

At (almost) 60 I still have very little grey. When I hit 40 and got a few greys at the temples, I decided I’d just go grey and be done with it, as I’m far too lazy for all the upkeep. I may never know if I’d’ve kept to that decision! Everyone thinks I must dye it anyway, but an uncle who died in his mid-70s still had a full head of almost totally black hair, think I must have the same gene he had.

I like my grey hair and beard, 60 next year and little signs of thinning, so I reckon I'm going to be one of those old blokes with thick snow white hair. I'm not complaining.

Macman went grey in his early 20s, so I like to think my lack of grey is a natural counterbalance. Sometimes wonder if it’s because I wash it so infrequently compared with everyone else I know, they’ve just washed all their colour out.

My hair started going grey once I turned 60, but there isn't a lot, just a streak at the front. Working outside means it gets a bit bleached in summer and when the layers are cut back in, it looks like I've had highlights.

A couple of pics from today. Bubo, aka The Young Prince, and the view from my main workplace. It's a dream of a location, I love working there.

Ooh gorgeous Bubo! (And lovely view).