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Haircut and Sausage

January 20, 2019

 

 

I’m having trouble getting back into the swing of things.  I thought 2018 had a few negatives.  I hope 2019 gets better.  I want to thank everyone that reached out to my family in the first couple weeks of the year.

 

I had big plans for this New Year.  I decided to do really huge things; things like getting a haircut. I know, some of you get a haircut every two weeks, so what’s the big deal.  Well, I haven’t had a haircut in over two years.  I hadn’t shaved in over two years.

 

I’m a creature of habit; no really.  After I graduated from high school, I went to the same haircutter for over thirty years.  When Terry told me she was retiring, I nearly wept.  (OK, I didn’t weep.  I’m emotional, not wimpy.)  The thought of somebody other Terry (and Elaine) running their hands through my hair was more than I could bear.  What if they look in my ears?  Anyway, when Terry quit, I started cutting my own hair.

 

I bought one of those haircutting tools they sell at the big-box store and started cutting my own hair.  Not every two weeks, but like every six months.  No one, including Elaine ever said anything like, “Who cut your hair?  It looks like (construction language)!”  I just continued cutting my hair.

 

One day, I was picking up Boy Twin at the home of his “girlfriend”.  I was chatting with girlfriend’s father and he said, “Boy Twin needs a haircut.”  Now, I lived through the ‘70’s.  I silently thought, “Do people really care how long people grow their hair.”  Ironically, then it happened.  As if a message from GOD, my haircutting tool stopped working.

 

Two years later, every morning I was trying to get the tangles out of my admittedly beautiful hair.  (I have an ego problem.)  Elaine gleefully saw me ask Ivy to cut my hair off last Sunday.  Ivy started the cut, I finished it.  Elaine was even more gleeful when the beard started to go.  (I’ve already started to grow it back!)

 

A quick construction story then I need to go see some big (construction language) horses at the big brewery near town. 

 

I have stopped driving two hours to work every day.  The company that employs me rents a studio apartment in an extended stay motel for me.  Other than I’m alone at night, it is working pretty well. 

 

The extended stay offers a hot continental breakfast every morning.  I’m a little concerned about the sausage they serve.  Visibly, it is like no other sausage that I have ever seen.  As far as taste, it is definitely meat.  I’m guessing it is raccoon.  I haven’t seen any raccoons in the neighborhood.  I haven’t even seen raccoon tracks in the snow.  Something has to be happening to them.  Hmmm, come to think of it, I haven’t seen prairie dogs either.

 

I have given up on the raccoon sausage and moved to oatmeal.  It looks like 2019 is the year for changes.

 

I’m not sure how long this leg of my career is going to last.  I exchanged un-pleasantries with my supervisor this past Friday.  He called me on the phone and asked, “Do you just totally disregard what I have asked you to do?”  I replied after I stopped laughing, (I didn’t think he was serious.  He was) “If that’s what you think, by all means, send me home.”  He didn’t realize how much I dislikethat raccoon sausage.

 

Elaine read this story and said it’s OK.  “Hey, I’m having a tough year.”

 

Our crazy lives!

 

Monner

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