Jimmy gets scissor-happy

Sunday morning, while we were loading up the car to go back to Highlands, the heat and humidity really started getting to me, and my hair kept clumping up under my collar and scratching my neck. I handed Jimmy a pair of scissors and we went out on the deck for him to trim it up a little.

I stood there, expecting to hear a delicate snip, snip, snip, but instead was dismayed by a heavy SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, and the sight of long strands of hair falling around my feet.

"STOP!!" I shrieked. "What are you DOING?"

"I'm cutting your hair like you asked me to." Jimmy sounded aggrieved.

"I asked you to TRIM it, not whack it off up to my ears. You've cut off three inches!"

"Well, you told me to cut it. You didn't say not to cut it short."

"I didn't tell you not to give me a Mohawk either!! I'd have been better off if I'd just called [three-year-old] Jake to come over and cut it!"

"That hurts," sulked Jimmy, "really cuts me to the quick."


My foot is for scale.
I'm becoming reconciled to my new 'do. And maybe Jimmy has discovered a talent as a hair stylist. Maybe he could become the new Jamison Shaw; it's unfortunate that his old bad back won't let him stand for very long.

August 4

We love this time of year in Highlands, with the daytime temperatures just right for porch sitting, and at night, it's perfect for sleeping with the windows open.

I'm going to a watercolor workshop at the Bascom Art Center this week. We're painting from live models, which is more challenging than working from photographs, since the brain has to interpret three dimensions as two.

VHS Class of 1960's Fabulous Four

Jimmy, Bill (Red) Dawson, Buddy Coleman, and Kenny Scruggs rest up after supper at the Smokin' Pig tonight.

Bellemeade #9 fairway

Maybe it was because we hadn't been there in a while and were seeing it with fresh eyes, but the view from the lounge at Valdosta Country Club looked especially vivid Friday in the late afternoon sunlight.

The bar at the club is a great gathering place, and we look forward to going back, but it's just not the same without Robert and Esther and Louise.

Time is passing too quickly.

P.S.

Shortly after I posted the above blog, I received an e-mail from Anne Plageman in which she included a photograph that she had taken late Friday afternoon in her backyard, also overlooking the golf course. She had been as intrigued as I by the unusual quality of the light.

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If you were one of the folks who got this text message from my cell number last weekend, I apologise. The grandchildren were playing with my phone.

Van Gogh sky

"Come look at this," Jimmy called, and I joined him on the balcony to see the ocean stained pink by the brilliant evening sky.