Hair and there #amwriting

I began reading a new book while I was traveling over the weekend. It came with a lot of hype from the big bookseller in the sky: “the book grown-up Harry Potter fans can’t put down.” So far, I’m not finding it anywhere near as engrossing as Harry Potter. What with all the propaganda, my expectations are probably too high. I’m going to keep reading because it’s not completely deadly—it’s just not “all that and more.”

Also, I am beta reading for a friend out in Wyoming, and I must say, his book is quite good.

Formatting on my new book has had some false starts and hiccups, but that’s the life of an indie. I’m going to go to Draft2Digital from now on for eBook and mobi formatting. I saw that they also offer paper book formatting (at no cost) in all the same sizes that Create Space used to offer, so I will let you know how that goes and how it looks.

Work continues on both novels and several short stories. My creative brain is working again, joy of joys. I think I had a hard case of the “Post NaNoWriMo Brain Freeze” that others have talked about, but I had never experienced before.

Last week was a busy week for me. I drove 3 hours north to Snohomish, where my oldest daughter lives. She is a hair stylist with her own business at Fresh Salon and Spa. Salons like that provide all the necessary furnishings and amenities for a high end salon, by renting space to several licensed cosmetologists who each own their own business.

Each stylist pays a monthly rent to the shop’s owner, which helps her cover the utilities and other onsite costs for owning and operating such a large, upscale salon. By leasing chairs, the owner has motivated stylists at her shop whose clients bring in many new customers.

Leah has all the normal costs of owning and operating a small business. She purchases her own supplies and is responsible for paying both state and federal taxes on her earnings, as does any small business owner. By “renting a chair” at Fresh, she has the benefit of a receptionist, a good location, high end décor, and a much lower overhead than if she bought her own building.

Plus, it’s an exceedingly pleasant place to work.

Now the reason I bring this up is … you guessed it: hair.

When I was a worker bee in Corporate America, I kept my hair short and businesslike. It grows so fast that I had to get it cut every six weeks to keep it in shape.

When I retired, I quit worrying about it. Now I only cut it when it is so long that it’s annoying.

Which it has been, lately.

The last time I cut my hair was in 2017, and we cut twelve inches off.

This time, we cut fourteen inches off. And this time, I donated my hair to Wigs for Kids, a non-profit organization that donates wigs to children who have lost their hair due to burns, or cancer, or any number of traumatic, life altering events.

It was an involved process, as the picture shows, but we followed the instructions exactly so that what we donate will be usable when it arrives there.

My head feels five pounds lighter, and my heart feels good because I know a child will have a better day when they receive their wig.

But enough about my hair—let’s talk babysitting!

On Friday, Leah and I dressed in full combat gear and took on the tribe while my youngest daughter and her husband had a well-deserved weekend away without their three, exceptionally creative, sons.

Leah’s 13-year-old son helped as much as he could by trying to get them tired out, but the 7-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 1-year-old—let’s just say we had a wild time wrangling small, rambunctious boys.

My hearing is starting to return, so it’s all good.

I love babysitting, but it’s so much easier when Leah and Logan are there to do the real work. (I laugh, but it’s true—my best skills as a grandma are snuggling clean, well-fed children and watching cartoons.)

So, the weekend was spent lightening the load on my head, playing with grandchildren, and generally having a great time. I watched many episodes of Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated and Oddbods. Nothing but fine arts and entertainment!

Overall, the high point of the weekend was waking up to having my nose “booped” at 3 a.m. by a wide-awake one-year old who wanted to play.

So we did.

Life doesn’t get any better than that.