I have reached the age where certain things are automatic. When I sit in the recliner and pull up the footrest, my eyelids close and I fall asleep. Since it was too early for that, I decided to surf the net for cool things to make. I found origami and made a couple of simple little boxes. I presented them to Glen and he said, "what am I supposed to do with these?" I suggested he put his stuff in them. He said, "I have so much stuff I don't have room for things to put my stuff in." Does that make any sense?
I managed to stay awake and entertained with origami until 9:00 and then it was lights out. I was looking forward to a full night's sleep without the interruption of the pitter-patter of little feet. I fell asleep with a smile on my face looking forward to my big night out tonight... a wonderful hour-and-a-half in the chair at the salon where my stylist would weave wonders through my hair so I wouldn't look a day over 52 again.
Boy, is it a good thing I got my hair colored, not only because it's therapeutic, I got out of cooking another meal and I was surrounded by females for a change, but because just when you think nobody notices, someone comes along and lets you know otherwise.
"Grandma, all the kids at school think (changing her name to protect the innocent) Mrs. Whitmore wears a wig because her face is so 'ovally', but I got her to come to my desk and when she bent down I could see a white streak down the middle so I know she doesn't, but, boy, it sure looks like it 'cause of her 'ovally' face."
I shudder to think what he tells the kids at school about my hair, but I think my stylist, Jill Graeve at Indulge, did such a fantastic job on my white streak that I took a picture of it all by myself : )
And it only took me 17 tries : )