She pantomimed leaning forward in her chair, bowing her head and brushing her wet hair off her neck, up over her crown, and trimming it at what would be bangs-length in front. She’d do it herself, she explained, but she had a tendency to cut her fingers when holding her hair.
To shear or not to shear? To shear!
I know her well enough to realize she wasn’t asking for the latest fashion or even any style at all, so I said sure. We put her on a folding chair in the middle of the backyard.
She brushed her hair forward and I went to work with the decidedly dull pair of scissors we use for various things around the house. Locks of her silvery hair fell to the lawn for birds and other critters to carry away.
While I’ve no ambitions of hanging out my shingle as a barber, she’s declared delight with the results, and I’ve got a “new thing” to add to my birthday list. Simple. Reciprocal. Awesome.
[Awhile back, I announced my intention to celebrate my 50th birthday year by trying 50 new things. This post contributes to my chronicle of some of those new things.]
Photo credit: katrinket