Short(ish)

Today's jobs: continue work on my burgeoning white finger syndrome sanding the wood for shelving, book a haircut for TallGirl and make a doctor's appointment I'm long overdue for. Ah well two out of three ain't bad.

TallGirl's haircut is the story of the day. I've had an agreement with her that if she looked after it, I'd stop nagging her to comb it. Obviously that worked about as well as the family contract we tried... And so today we shocked our favourite hairdresser. Normally I comb TallGirl's hair before we go (although last time she did find a twig in there despite my best efforts), but there was no time today. I suggested she just hack the tatty bits off, but she (once the shocked 'oh' noises had stopped) pointed out the the mattedness went right to the roots.

Anyway, she combed for an hour and then cut and accepted a very oversized tip with grace. I know from experience how tricky that hair is to comb. Meanwhile a storm raged outside that had us all jumping with each crash of lightning.

So here's a Mr-B-blip-rules compliant photo of the shoulder-length bob. It was supposed to be shorter, but TallGirl's French is better than mine so she won the pre-cut discussion.