Purple Wig Friend tells me she's just come home from a hospital check-up in a (new to her) examination room. There she recognised instantly 'my' dying cactus. Unlike me she did something about it and watered the poor thing. When her consultant arrived, she pointed it out and told her the state of it had become the cause of considerable gobal concern (tiny touch of poetic licence!) Consultant looked startled and Friend had to explain.
I notice something similar in the waiting room. Lurking in the corner is a large weeping fig, which has done so much weeping it's lost most of its leaves. It lets the side down because the room itself is quite pleasant. It's modern and comfortable and the walls are decorated with large framed photos, beautiful close-up studies of sand, rocks and sea, that are nothing short of stunning. Sad greenery spoils the overall effect, but I suppose it's all just too high maintenance for hard pressed NHS staff.
My hair is starting to grow again. I've got a tiny layer of fuzz and I can't resist running my hand over my head just for the novelty of feeling it. At night I get a strange tickling, almost prickling, sensation that is so pronounced I actually start worrying I have head lice scurrying around. An examination by both Husband and Daughter reassures me on that score, so I can only conclude what I'm feeling is hair actually growing! What it's going to look like heaven only knows. The sides seem to be coming through white and the top dark. I'm going to look rather like a badger. Still, who cares about colour when one actually has hair. Strange how one's priorities change.
I'm in the bank, still wearing Heidi of course, when the cashier leans forward confidentially and says 'I hope you don't mind my asking, but where do you get your hair cut?' I do a quick double take. She means it. I grin broadly and tell her 'You've just made my day!' Before I know it the other two cashiers have gathered round and an animated discussion on breast cancer ensues. They're all telling me how their sister/mother/friend/colleague has had it and is now doing brilliantly when a customer with the audacity to require service suddenly appears and the girls promptly scuttle back to their positions. I leave, chuckling to myself. It's a huge confidence boost and I find myself grinning inanely like the Cheshire Cat all the way home. There's no doubt about it Heidi has done great service, but it'll still be wonderful when I can put her into retirement.
I don't intend to retire my purple wig! She'll have many more years of service if I have anything to say about it. Just because I have hair now doesn't mean that I want to lose that purple sparkle . . .
Hi Jeannie: Where do you get your hair cut? That is funny, because people want to know where I get mine coloured!
Some days things just go our/your way - don't know why, but am not questioning it - just hope those days come fast and often!
Perhaps a small 'retirement' party for Heidi is in order.