Church Mouse: Hair clippings

Signs of growth and the past.

I have an appointment to get my haircut. Pretty exciting.

I don’t remember the last time I’ve been to this particular local upscale salon of choice. I do remember going there one time as my birthday present to myself while I was working at the church.

As I recall, I was also wearing a new jumper that a nice young sales person had gotten down off of the display for me — it was pale lavender and quite long. I believe I wore my goddess pin on it frequently.

The owner gave me just a bit of an updoo — perhaps partly inspired by the jumper reminiscent of child’s wear — creating sort of a little side ponytail out of part of what could’ve been bangs. It was a little fussier and less comfortable than anything I would do on my own. It seems to me that my coworker was not particularly impressed.

While chatting in the chair, the owner of the establishment was surprised to learn that a neighbor of hers frequented the church where I worked. Said common acquaintance might not have been the most active inhabitant of a pew, but she did come by the office often — providing a vast assortment of welcomed clippings and comments.

Back to hair. One of my reality checks during the pandemic was to pull the scrunchy off of my long wadded up tresses (such as they are), and hold up a little mirror to see what the back of my head looked like in the big bathroom mirror.

It was a tad like reading tea leaves (not that I have any experience with that):

Were the ends swirled or frizzled, waving one way or the other?

Sometimes they almost acted as an accessory — crimped together gathering the newer growth into a rather acceptable array. That made for a good hair day.

More than once though, the dried ends of the longest hair I’ve maybe ever had, felt like a bug bite — something to swat away. Hopefully, quite unlike Sampson in the Bible a haircut will do me good.

Perhaps I should even vow now to be ecstatic. What I see in a small surface as I look over my shoulder to a larger view might yield perceptible new growth. And the clipped wisps on the floor will provide temporary evidence of days gone by.

Kate Josephson worked as a church secretary in Red Wing. She seeks out religious experiences wherever she goes.

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