Hic Leges Icenorum Observantur
Any barbers around here?
From the 4th, barbers will have the option of getting haircuts in Germany.
In recent years I’d been going to a Jamaican barbers where I’m razored down to the bone so it was with some alarm that my hair had grown half an inch. The remedy! I went on line and ordered a head shaver, about £35. And now in lockdown time I have a ritual shave of the head every 3 -5 days. I can even do it sitting down in the garden with a towel around my neck. But if the Royalist has long flowing locks, then that’s another matter.
I can’t speak or writing in any language any more. Germany is set to allow barber shops to reopen from next week. I look forward to getting another haircut.
I make a point of dodging my hairdresser in winter. He always seems to have a cold and I have no intention of catching it. Hence in February I was somewhat shaggy! Caught a dreadful cold in mid Feb, hunkered down and by the time I felt well enough to emerge the whole bloody place had shut down. So I have been lurking offstage now for about ten weeks!!! The bloody hair is a nightmare, especially when kneeling planting things whilst it whips the eyeballs and gets eaten.
Now the bloody governor has shut us down for another month. I have rather a lot of thick hair and it begins to resemble the gorgon monster.
Spousal unit not much better but I don’t think either of us trust the other as haircutters!
Ah well, one could have an untimely demise and be a very scruffy corpse!!
It’s been awhile since I had long flowing locks, PG, though the hair is pushing into MrsO gardening territory. The sprouting process is haphazard. Like Mitchell Johnson’s bowling, there are different lengths all over the place.
Taking my shears I’ve cut some chunks here and there. Then I tried to get too smart at the horticulture lark and trimmed individual grey weeds that had blossomed. Big mistake. Nobody told me that underneath these greys are an under soil of many, many more grey follicles. I’m too young for this carry on. It might not be a barber I need, it might be some colouring.
I’ve had only one haircut this year and that was under protest at the end of January. I am therefore gloriously hairy and loving it. My only fear is that the NSW will do a Delilah to my Sampson one dark night and I’ll wake up all weak and tufty, so I sleep with one eye and both ears open. Having said that, it is expected that the salons will be opening again at the end of the month, so I might get away with it until then. After that all truces are off and it isn’t going to be pretty.
Ingredients: Back garden, dining room chair, clippers, towel on shoulders and a wife who has to look at her handiwork…..
Result: Perfect grade 2 back and sides with a 4 on top as far as I can see!
Pity the poor local barber now not going to get my £12 every 8 weeks.
(In case you’re wondering, I haven’t reciprocated. Mrs C. is a lady of discerning taste, obviously, but apparently colour is more important than length, and man-assistance isn’t required!)
My flowing locks are but a distant memory, but I do have a magnificent beard. Mrs FEEG keeps this and what I have left on top in order, so I rarely, if ever these days, go to a barbers shop. However, Mrs FEEG is beginning to resemble an Old English Sheepdog, but she does not trust me near her barnet with a pair of scissors!!
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