Sunday, Feb. 12

Up around 8 a.m. on this sunshiny, but sharply cold, morning. To look at the bright day, it's hard to believe predictions for wintry weather tomorrow. Not knowing just when frozen precipitation will arrive makes it difficult to know how to plan for Monday. Right now, I'm thinking I won't go to water aerobics (if indeed there is a session...sessions are cancelled if the school district declares a snow day).

But if the temperature rises enough to melt the snow or ice by mid-afternoon, I might still be able to meet my student...unless the college closes for the day, too. Because this college serves non-traditional students, who live in rural areas, and even in other counties, it closes for wintry weather.

The college where I swim does not close, since most students live on campus, but the pool does close.

Skipped my exercises today, as I usually do on Sundays. Mother came over at 10 a.m. and put together a lasagna for the oven, after Hubbie and I had gathered all the ingredients, dishes, etc., for her. Afterward, she clipped coupons for Granddaughter.

The lasagna, served with a salad, was very good. Hubbie accompanied Mother back to her house afterward, and I got ready to go to a program at the museum...changing hairstyles over the years.

A couple of retired hairdressers, and a current hairdresser (all of whom I know) presented the program. The hairdressers talked about the different tools they used, or use, to achieve the various "dos," like spit curls, finger waves, flips, beehives, pageboys, pixies, etc.

At one point, audience participants were asked to show photos they'd brought and explain the hairstyles shown. I took along a snapshot of the Afro I wore in the 1970s. As with other styles over the years, this was a bad choice for me...completely unsuited to my face.

It was one of the few times in my life that I got a permanent. The other times were just as disastrous. When I was about ten years old, Mother gave me my first "perm." It was a Toni brand home permanent that turned into a giant frizz.

In high school, I got a beauty shop permanent. What I was aiming for was a hairdo called a "duck tail," which was sort of pixie cut all over, but then swept up in the very back into what looked like the upturn of a duck tail. One of the girls in my class, a red head, had that hairstyle, and I loved it. But she had a bit of natural curl in her hair, and I did not. Mine was board straight. So I ended up with what one of the boys in my class said looked like a football helmet.

Later, after I'd married for the first time, I decided "blonds have more fun," and got my hair bleached. I wore it long, with the top pulled back into a teased bouffant. Teasing hair was really bad, especially if it was bleached, because it stretched and broke it.

So what I did next was a real disaster...I got a home permanent. My hair melted, and I had to go to a beauty shop to get it cropped.

After that, I let my natural color grow back in, but, not having learned my lesson, I got the "'fro." One of the guys at work said it looked like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket. Afros grew out awkwardly. It seemed like forever before my hair was back to normal.

I've tried all sorts of ways to get my hair to curl, but none worked. Hot rollers got stuck in my hair, and because my hair is so straight, it simply would not stay wound around a curling iron...it just popped out like the quills on a porcupine.

When I was very young, Mother used a curling iron to create long curls in my hair. In those days, there was no such thing as an electric curing iron. She used one that had to be heated on the stove. It's a wonder she didn't burn my hair completely off.

One of the easiest hairstyles I wore was a pony tail in high school. When I got it cut and permed, it was never that easy to care for again.

I've finally learned my lesson...just wear it short and straight. It's the only thing it wants to do, anyway.

One of the older hairdressers (a lady who attends water aerobics) told of an incident at her shop many years ago. At that time, women who were having permanents or getting their hair colored, had these things done in private rooms in the shop. It seems that ladies of that day wanted people to believe that their curls and color were completely natural.

While one woman was under the hair dryer after getting a permanent, her husband came into the shop wanting to see her about something. The hairdresser sent her to the private room. He came back saying he didn't find her. Seems the husband had never seen her any other way than perfectly coiffed and with her makeup on. The woman was very upset that the hairdresser had let her husband see her that way.

I have to wonder what sort of marriage doesn't allow for the partners to see each other at their worst, as well as at their best.

Back home, Hubbie napped, while I played on my laptop. The sun still shone. It simply didn't look like there could be any threat of snow or ice. But predictions persist, though now it's possible the nasty stuff won't arrive in our part of the state until late tomorrow morning, or even in the afternoon. So I might still be able to go to water aerobics. Meeting my student tomorrow afternoon is still in question, though.