Today was the Day.
Today I have had my first Bat Flu haircut.
In fact we had quite an abundance of haircutting experience between us. I have watched the hairdresser doing it, Mark has watched some instructional videos on YouTube, and of course Oliver, who we considered something of a resident expert, used to make coffee and sweep up in the local barber’s shop.
We were a bit short of equipment. Mark heard on YouTube that you are first supposed to spend a thousand pounds on a pair of specialist scissors and also some clips to keep the hair that you are not cutting out of the way.
We considered this.
In the end he sharpened the scissors that we use for trimming the tufts of hair between the dogs’ toenails, and we improvised clips with clothes pegs. I will tell you now that this latter innovation did not work quite as well as the real thing, perhaps we ought to have gone to Boots after all.
It was not as nice as the real hairdresser. I had to wet my own hair under the shower first. There was nobody to lavish upmarket conditioner on it, or to give me a head massage and talk about where I might go on my summer holidays. When I came downstairs there was no soothing cup of coffee, and we were all agreed that probably a mirror might be a bad idea.
I have attached some extra pictures today, because of them being worth a thousand words, and indeed I think they are very eloquent.
Mark said that he would never, ever again complain about the cost of hairdressers, not that he does anyway. He said that the nice chap who usually cuts my hair earns every penny. He cut his own fingers twice, which made him swear a lot, but you will be pleased to hear that my ears remained entirely intact.
It took ages. After a while Roger Poopy came to sit on my knee in sympathy, because he does not like having his hair cut, and thought I might need some moral support. This was not ace for quality control, because he kept trying to lick my nose.
The result is below. Actually I think they have made rather a good job, for a first go. I have not taken a photograph of the back because I have got no idea how I would manage that, and Mark is outside nailing the new shed roof on, so you will have to make do with what I can organise for myself, maybe tomorrow.
In other news, Oliver has been busily occupied by his education all day. As well as learning chemistry and Latin, he has also got some things to do for his House. Duffus House is running various competitions, and the person who has the highest score by the time they go back to school will win a tie in the House colours.
You might be surprised to hear that Oliver and his friends consider this an intensely desirable prize, and competition is fierce.
He has spent the time between classes today engaged in creating a promotional video for Duffus House. I dare not release it here in case any other Duffus boy reads it and is rascally enough to steal his ideas, but it made me laugh very much. He has not finished it yet. Once the deadline is passed then probably I can safely share it, wait until weekend.
Apart from that, Mark has carried on with his shed construction, which is doing splendidly, and I have been doing housework, because I realised that feeling guilty about it was spoiling everything else I was doing. I cleaned the bathroom and hoovered and dusted and watered the front garden.
I rescued a bumble bee from the front garden. It was lying on the lawn looking exhausted. It is cold in the front garden in the evening, because there is no sun, so I took it downstairs and put it in the conservatory to warm up.
I do not know what happened to it then. Either it flew off or Roger Poopy ate it. Either is likely. I like to think that it warmed up and hummed off into the sunshine, contentedly.
We have got a pair of pigeons considering making a nest in our bay tree. They have been looking at it carefully and hopping in and out of it all day, but I am worried that they might have been put off by the amount of banging and crashing about that Mark is doing to his shed.
I hope they choose it. They make a very lovely sociable noise. They sit in the tree and talk to one another, and then bob out and sit on the wall to look at it. It would be nice to have them in the garden.
Apart from the washing, that is. That might turn out to be a bit tiresome.
We will wait and see what happens.
