Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Well, now, THAT was interesting.

I think. Then again, maybe not. I suppose we'll find out after I get it all written down, but it included a two-day marriage and family seminar, eating, a trip to Wal-Mart, buying gas, and three hairstylings, the most transformative of which belonged to Catherine. She's been bugging us to get her long curly locks cut off--she'll be eight in a couple of weeks and she's only had it cut one other time since she was born. She's been getting awfully frustrated trying to either brush it herself or have anyone else do it, because it's so fine and thick and curly that it gets tangled if you just look at it. SO, she's been wanting it cut, and cut enough so she could donate her ponytail to "those little kids who don't have no hair 'cause they're sick."

Saturday after our first round of lectures, while Reba went and got her hair did at the nice salon place over by Kohl's (I suppose this is part of her birthday presents), I took Cat and Ashley with me over to Head Start over by Target. (And yes, after Ashley found out she had been tricked into going with me instead of insinuating herself into Mom's day at the salon, she was peeved as only the shallowly self-centered can get. But, anyway.)

Catherine was first into the chair, and after some careful measuring and adjusting, a great shock of blonde hair nearly 14 inches long was neatly clipped off the back of her head. The next twenty minutes or so, the young lady who was fixing it probably cut another three inches off to get it neatened up, then dried and styled it by turning it under with a big brush, and WOW! My little girl looked like a grown-up! A sassy little wedge, turned under just-so, parted off to one side, and she thought she was just the hottest little thing in the world! Ever since then, she hasn't been able to keep her hands or various brushes and combs out of it, flipping it, curling it, combing it, brushing it, swishing it, swirling it, swinging it. She's never been able to do any of that, and it was quite the fun thing. It REALLY changed her appearance--I keep looking at her and it's very disconcerting to see a little stranger in the house. But, she's just cute as a bug.

After the girl got finished cutting it and styling it, and Cat hopped down out of the chair and started showing off, I thanked the stylist, told her it looked precious, and said, "You know, I think you really enjoyed doing that!" She smiled and said she did, and you could tell it made her day to see such a happy little customer.

OVER in the other chair, Ashley was having the ends of her hair trimmed and fixed to match some picture she got out of one of those hair magazines. Very nicely done, although later after we got home, she complained that the lady smelled like smoke. By coincidence, it was the same girl who cut my hair last week. Imagine that. In any event, she did a great job on her hair, and it turned out looking pretty much like the picture, which required lots of work with the curling iron and spritzes of stuff. The styling lasted exactly one night of tossing and turning in bed, but actually, it looks even nicer without all the little fillips of hair curling out. She was very taken with it, until, again, she found out Mom got to go to the nice place. ::sigh::

Anyway, there's more stuff to come, but I have to get some work done this morning, so it might be more than just a little while. In the mean time, drop on over to Citizen Frank's place for his Update #20, to find out his thoughts on the Iraqi elections, and about the importance of historical perspective.

Frank and his fellow soldiers have done incredible good works in daunting conditions, and they all deserve our grateful thanks, and even more importantly, the people they have gone to serve deserve our most profound respect. In a war in which the media has given us ceaseless, unrelenting coverage of all that is bad, it is heartening that the more powerful symbol of this conflict will not turn out to be the images of shattered bodies and pools of blood, but that of ink-smudged fingers held aloft.

(And it seems as though I'm not the only one to be moved by mere ink.)

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