I KNOW WHAT I WANT

After all this time, I have made up my mind. No more searching movie star magazines and hair style booklets for me. I am tired of trying to explain the style I want to my hair- stylist (if you can call her that) because no matter how I tell her about a new do, she cuts it the same way every time. I know what I want but apparently, so does she and she wins. The one time she changed was when I was relaxing with eyes closed while she did the comb-out and gasped when I looked in the mirror. I said, "But I do not part my hair in the middle. My face is too round!" This woman has been my stylist for three years now and I have never requested a center part. She has conveniently ignored the torn-out pictures of every starlet from Alba to Zeta- Jones, and every modern style I have seen or devised. I know it is hard to concentrate on snipping while carrying on a conversation on a cell phone tucked under her chin. Perhaps that is why I get a blunt cut when I request a layered look. Perhaps that is why I get a curly perm when I want just body. Maybe that is why I get orange instead of champagne blonde highlights. I get anxious when the timer has gone off several minutes before she returns from the back. But the cut, (Oh, my, the cut!) everyone knows that is the most important part. Last time when I examined the final results in the mirror, I gulped audibly. Then I began telling myself, "Don't panic, it will grow out. Your hair grows fast, it won't take long." Ha! A bad cut lasts FOREVER! And you have to live with it in the meantime. Of course, all the important occasions come around during this time of exasperation. She had the nerve to say ,the last time I went for a trim after a bad perm (she had said, I am going to use pink, then gray, then pink rollers this time and hope it will give you more body") that "Your hair seems a little dry." I did not say, " I have just had two hot oil treatments and a deep conditioning treatment at home!" I am not a difficult client. I hide my displeasure and write it off as lack of communication. But, I think I have a solution. I have found a picture of my- self that was taken twenty years ago, that has the style I want. It is beside the point that the face was thin with only one chin, the skin was smooth and unwrinkled, and the hair was thick and glossy. I am not asking for miracles. I know she does not do plastic surgery or tummy tucks or camoflauge make-up. Just please, please, for once can we do it my way?

Postscript

I had forgotten to include in my previous post the bit of news that inspired the whole thing. Among the highway hazards that I noted was the latest:: Motorists in the county adjacent to mine (where my friend lives) spotted a meteor descending in that vicinity one morning last week. At 6:30 a.m, early morning commuters on their way to work saw it come within a few hundred yards of earth before it split into two pieces. The newspaper quoted a scientist as saying it was a meteor instead of a meteorite because a meteorite would have disintergrated when it entered the atmosphere. He said it was probably farther south than reported . No debris has been found thus far. The article said that an average of 2 meteors a day hit the earth (or oceans) and that 40,000 tons of space material is added to the planet Earth each year. My question: Who weighed it? I will never understand how these calculations are arrived at but I find them fascinating, none the less. My falling rocks hazard does not seem quite as bad as a meteor strike. I think I heard somewhere that the city of Middlesboro, Ky is the only city known to have been built around a crater left by a meteor. Must have been a big one. Something to ponder while looking skyward. I wonder if the tool kit abandoned by the space shuttle can be seen orbiting the earth with a good telescope. Did you know that the Hubbell telescope was engineered by a Kentucky scientist? Anyhow , a fellow Kentuckian told me that. I must do a little research on Snopes.com before I pass on these things. In the meantime, watch for falling rocks.

HIGHWAY HAZARDS

I resolved to make my next post a happy one. Therefore, I have my work cut out for me since I chose the temporary title, "Highway Hazards". Well, where I liive you can encounter various types of hazards anytime you chose to go for a drive. The highways going north and south have both been built at great expense and effort since portions of them must be carved from limestone mountains, leaving highwalls that are terraced to protect from rockfalls. Drillmarks are evident from blasting and loose rock occasionally fall onto highways. Sometimes wire mesh fences are erected in the most dangerous places. We joke that a search still continues for a missing Indian chief named "Fallen Rocks" (and you can see signs telling you to watch for him! ) You may also see signs picturing a leaping deer at the usual deer crossings. That joke is that a elderly lady who had a deer crossing sign near her house called the Highway Department asking them to change the sign to somewhere else because "too many of those little fellas are getting killed there where it is nowl". I dunno. I'm not going to even comment on our supply of coal trucks, log trucks and Sunday drivers. we seem to have more than our share. I love where I live nestled in a valley between high mountains. A flatlander friend said, "How do you stand being closed in by mountains on both sides. You can't see the sky." But I can, you just have to..... " look to the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, who made heaven and earth"..... and I feel sheltered and protected by my beloved mountains. But I will be glad to see them green again.

I mentioned briefly, in my last post, that I, along with my family, had just endured a very traumatic event. That event could have ended the life of my precious niece and the life of her unborn child, as well. Her almost four- year-old daughter may have memories that will haunt her for a lifetime. Even I have had issues to overcome, as her aunt, and I can hardly imagine what my dear sister, her mother has endured. I can hardly answer questions when asked because of waves of nausea and trembling. So, I made the decision to write a short version of what happened as it was told to me. I hope this will be thereputic for me. Perhaps some of you will remember the short poem describing my niece, that I included in my previous journal. Here's a tidbit, " ............flower petal skin, like the purest porcelain. And the bluest eyes, beneath the skies,..............." This beautiful little girl that I love so much, is all grown up now with a little blonde miniature replica of herself that is now almost four and is eight months pregnant with another little girl baby. She and her daughter went shopping one morning last week. She became un- easy when she felt that she was being followed around the store by a stranger. The woman (age 34) did not look and act quite right, so my niece hurriedly took ;her selections to the check-out counter. My niece was suddenly attacked from behind by the woman, who slashed at her repeatedlly with a steak knife. She shielded the baby with her arms while she screamed for help. She said it seemed an eternity before another customer, a brave man, tackled the woman and pinned her arms until the police arrived. His wife helped to console my niece's daughter, while they were trying to control the bleeding. She had been viciously stabbed 6 times, along with numerous cuts on her arms. Two of the cuts were to the abdomen, one on either side of the baby, barely missing it (which they did not know at the time.) The one to the thigh proved to be most serious, as it entered the muscle. She was taken to a nearby hospital for emergency treatment, then later transported to a neo-natal hospital 150 miles away. An irregular heartbeat from the baby was probably caused by the stress. When my sister called me on the way there, she requested that I call my prayer chain , which I did, and I know that other local churches began praying for them. Praise God, the tests that followed showed a restored rhythm and that the baby was fine. My nieces wounds were treated and she was released on crutches the next day. We were told later that the woman had been released from jail the previous day. She had been imprisoned for stabbing another woman a few years ago. Apparently, she was mentally deranged, with a violent history. The shock of this happening has stunned our entire family and community. I can't begin to express how violated we still feel. Her little girl, in her grandmother's care, refused to go into a store because, "that woman might be there and kill me." Accidents are hard enough to cope with, but a vitriolic act of hatred and violence shakes one to the core. We warn our children to avoid dangerous places and people, but to not be able to feel safe in ordinary places in plain daylight just blows ones mind. It would be easy to slip into a vengeful mood of retaliation. I was helped very much by viewing a film on "20-20" a few nights ago. It showed a mother's journey to her forgiving the murderer of her small child abducted on a family camping trip. As she said, "Hatred can eat you alive." As a result of her efforts, the killer was captured and convicted. I definitely want my niece's attacker to recieve the treatment she must have. I am also praying that she will not be loosed upon society again until they are certain she is rid of the demons which obviously possess her. I pity her for her torment, but I embrace loved ones that I could so suddenly have lost. Thank God for answered\ prayers, and for sending that brave man to her rescue. I , along with my family, will be eternally grateful.

GONE TOO LONG

Hello! I am sheepishly back to blogging, for the time being anyway. Kinda like missing church for no good reason, one is reluctant to return for fear of having been spotted having fun. Well, I did enjoy a miniature vacation to the Smokies, but other than that, it has just been a hectic time for me. I tore into spring cleaning those few nice days in March, literally pulling out many things that had been stored away, or were cluttering my closets. I soon ran out of steam, not being as young as I once was, unfortunately. I attribute my lack of enthusiasm, which caused the postponing of cleaning, to the fact that the weather turned ugly and cold, and I just can't clean when it is dark and gloomy. That said, I left everything topsy turvy, waiting for sunny days. (Then, I will want to be outside, gardening!) Another reason for my dampened spirits involved a family drama, actually a tragedy, which I may or may not write about later. Thank God that the family member involved was protected by angels, I believe, that prevented an even worse result. I was terribly shaken by this event and definitely needed a brief vacation to gather my wits again. Happily, I'm back and recovering.