One of the nicest things I remember from the eight short years I had when my father was when I would accompany him to Mr. Louis, the barber, for a trim. The barbershop was on the corner of, I think Nelson Street? in one half of a shotgun double. The striped pole whirled around outside on a post connected to the porch. It always smelled so heavenly in there, fragrant in a clean and masculine way and I would watch fascinated. Everyone, including my father, seemed to completely relax when they sat in the chair and the striped cover was placed over them, almost to the point of going to sleep. But what I really remember just as well was Mr. Louis deftly using scissors to trim Daddy’s nose and ear growth…regularly. I always as a child wanted my hair long; Mom always wanted it short, and one summer day my hair was nearly to my shoulders and I went with Dad–heavens, may I break in here–am I finally growing up–because ever since I found that obituary about him a few weeks ago, I sincerely want to start calling him Dad now. So, I went with my Dad so he could have a haircut and there was a picture of a little girl around my age on the mirror. Her hair was cut in a pixie, she was dark-haired with round dark eyes and a pug nose, and one of the customers said, “hey, that little girl looks like this one.” Pointing to me. So I asked Daddy if I could also get a pixie haircut (non-sacrosanct since Mom wasn’t there) and he said yes. It was wonderful fun to sit in the barber’s chair, and when we got home, Mom took one look at me and said, “Thank God!”
Needful things…I know I live a mile or so away from a really nice mall, Lakeside. But I can’t resist the joy of opening packages that arrive in the mail, so I order. Yesterday I received something I deemed needful for my leg trouble…a extra long pair of cardinal red cable knit leg warmers. I am awaiting two new nightshirts; just long T-shirts, one is a bright red, the other is denim blue.