I Did It to Myself

I’ve thought off and on about trying to cut my own hair, but never really had the nerve to try it. However, having failed to book an advance appointment and being unable to use the beauty college as it was shut for their spring break, I was faced with either cutting it myself or going out to dinner on my birthday with decidedly shaggy hair.

It didn’t look awful, but it was so long it flipped up on my shoulders and I’m just not into hair that long these days. It was driving me batty so I looked at several websites and got a book from the library for students getting qualifications in hairdressing. I’d also paid attention the first time I went to the beauty college. It was easy to follow the logic of she was doing because she did it v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. I think I mentioned previously that I got a 3 hour hair cut. I thoroughly enjoyed having someone fuss over me that long and she really did a great job.

Anyhow, using what I’d read and seen, this is how I went about it:

I washed and towel dried my hair, parted it in the middle and combed it straight.

With a ruler, I measured the length of my hair at the top, side and from the bottom (it was about 8+ inches at the top and the bottom hair was about 5+ inches). I noticed that the hair length changed at about ear level and decided to keep that difference, ie aiming for a long layered look. I decided to cut the top half to a 6½ -inch length and to trim a couple of inches off the bottom so it was off my shoulders again.

I got a UHT milk carton, basically water-proof cardboard, and cut a 6 inch long template about 2 inches wide.

Using barbering scissors that came with Bill’s razor set (he shaves his own hair all the time), I took small sections of hair from the top and measured them against my template, cutting the hair to that length. Cut sections got moved to the other side of my head and secured with clips. When the right side was complete, I removed all the clips, combed the hair down and worked on the left side.

When the top was done, I got Bill to help me out. I wet my hair and combed it smooth again. Then I got a tape measure and put it around my neck at the length I wanted the hair cut to. I had Bill trim whatever hair extended below the tape measure.

When that was done, I did some comparison of the sides and did a bit of repair work, snipping tiny bits off what looked too long.

Then, like they do at the hair dressers, I combed wet hair across each check and trimmed the hair on a diagonal, sort of cutting off the hard corner at the front.

Finally I did my usual blow dry and styling and snipped bits off my bangs, something I’ve done all my life (they call it fringe here in the UK, which is a much more sensible name; where ever did the term ‘bangs’ come from?).

When I was done, the bathroom looked like something got hold of a furry animal; there was hair everywhere, including inside my clothes. I also had to stop for some first aid as I clipped the skin on one of my knuckles. I would never have believed scissors could be that sharp, but I believe it now.

It’s not a great haircut, I’ll admit, but neither does it like a lunatic went at it, which is what I’d feared. For a DIY job, I’m very pleased with it. I’m even more pleased that I made myself do something a little scary and it turned out OK. I like to feel that I’m still growing.

Happy Birthday to Me

I thought about writing 52 things about me, but even with my advanced state of self-centredness, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Suffice it to say this whole blog is actually about me and we’ll leave it at that. OK?

Having scaled back considerably on spending money since leaving work I found myself really looking forward to opening my birthday presents, nearly as much as when I was a child. Bless him, Bill is my chief benefactor and he’s done well for me. I’ve got a fair number of the gifts I asked for and a couple others that were surprises.

The BIG gift was not one I asked for: a new camera, far in advance of what I’ll ever use (complete with 178 pages of instructions…). However, I buckled down and worked out how to do the basics and it’s not too complicated.

Tonight we are going to dinner at a restaurant in Tynemouth, The Arch.

Red Sky at Night

I grew up 4-5 hundred miles from an ocean and for these purposes I count the Gulf of Mexico. It was there that I saw my first ocean going vessel, a huge rusty-looking merchant ship, in the Port of New Orleans in 1980.


So why we in Oklahoma always said "Red sky at night, sailors' delight" is beyond me, particularly as Bill, who grew up less than 15 miles from the North Sea, says it's "shepherds' delight".


Somebody explain that one to me, please.

Life in This United Kingdom*

I’ve often wished to share with you the amusing musings of Peter Mortimer, who writes for our local free paper. Unfortunately you in the US wouldn’t understand most of it, just like when I first came across I had no idea who was this person in women’s magazines, Anthea Turner; that ‘bloody’ actually counted as a swear word and not just an unpleasant body fluid; or that ‘taking the Mick’ meant ‘pulling my leg’ (and where does that come from, anyhow?) not swallowing a sleep-inducing drink. However, I saw this in last week’s paper and decided to give it a go, with a few translations.

He’s talking about an area of road construction where speed cameras have collected over 4,000 fines totalling £267,000. “…Motorists, especially at rush hour, join the seemingly endless queue up to the Billy Mill roundabout. Many of these motorists are already stressed and irritable; their house prices are in retreat, they are rapidly becoming obese, food prices have shot through the roof, charvers have thrown eggs at their windows, they have shares in Northern Rock, they can no longer smoke in their local [pub], petrol is now the price of vintage wine and next week (if the tour operator doesn’t go bust and the air traffic controllers aren’t on strike) they’re flying on holiday via Terminal Five at Heathrow.”

He goes on to explain that this is why the drivers are speeding once they get out of the traffic jam – damn the 30 mph speed limit – and in any case, the road works are unnecessary being just a ploy to generate income for the Government via speed cameras (I think he’s kidding, but you’d be amazed how many people look at it that way – nothing to do with getting people to obey speed limits for their own and others’ safety).

Anyhow, I just thought I’d pass along the good news that things are pretty much the same on both sides of the pond…

*With fond memories of Readers Digest column, ‘Life in These United States’.

Cold Tea Fruit Cake

My Grandma used to make fruit cakes for gifts every Christmas. We always accepted them politely, but later joked amongst ourselves that it was just what we needed: another door stop. I grew up thinking fruit cake was dry and horrible. It wasn’t a great loss, as I didn’t have a great sweet tooth anyhow. Imagine my surprise to find that in Great Britain, fruit cake is to die for and none better have I ever tasted than the cake John shared with us Monday (another bank holiday) on our bike ride.

I’ve done a bit of Internet research and found a couple of recipes I'm going to try. The first comes from a book, The Great Tea Rooms of Britain. It’s advertised as part travel book and part cook book and I have to say I’m tempted. The pictures remind me why I enjoy living here, showing Tudor buildings, quaint villages and olde world tea rooms. A reminder such as this is good on a grey day like this one.

It doesn’t say it’s from Harrogate, in fact the authors are apparently American, or at least run a tea shop somewhere in the US., but many British traditions have travelled well across the country, so I would say it’s a start.

Sweet Bara Brith (Welsh Tea Bread)
2 cups mixed dried fruit
1¼ cup cold tea
1 cup brown sugar
2¼ cups self-rising flour
1 egg, beaten
1 ½ tsps allspice

In a medium bowl, combine the dried fruit, tea and sugar. Let stand un-refrigerated overnight. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Line and grease a loaf pan. Add the flour, beaten egg and allspice. Bake 1½ hours or until a cake tester comes out dry from the centre of the loaf. Remove to a rack and allow to cool for 15 minutes before slicing. Serve with butter or clotted cream.

The other recipe is also from an American source, which sells British-styled goods. Unfortunately it is a gluten-free recipe and thus far I seem to tolerate wheat just fine. I would be inclined to consider substituting regular products for the gluten-free ones.

Tea Brack
125 gms butter
250 gms heron gluten free flour
1 tsp gluten free baking powder
60 gms demerara sugar
180 gms sultanas
2 free range eggs
¼ litre cold tea

Soak the sultanas and the sugar in strong tea overnight. Put the butter, flour and baking powder into a mixing bowl. Rub the butter into the flour until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Add the eggs and the liquid and mix well. Grease and line a 450 gm loaf tin, scoop the mixture in. Set oven to 200’C/400’F/ Gas Mark 7. When you put your brack in turn the oven down immediately to 175’C/ 350’F/ Gas Mark 4. Bake in the centre of the oven for 50 minutes, then lower the temperature to 150’C/ 300’F/ Gas Mark 2 and bake for a further 30 mins (you may want to cover the brack with a sheet of greaseproof paper at this stage to prevent it getting too brown). Insert a sharp knife into the loaf, if it comes out clean your loaf is baked. Leave to cool before turning out onto a cooling tray.

I'll go put the kettle on now and make some nice tea....

Derwent Country Park

We had another bike ride today to look at possible race courses. It lasted about 4 hours with a break in the middle for a picnic. Also a break to fix Bob’s punctured tire; and another break for me to recover from a fall off my bike. I only have scrapes and bruises, but I’ll be 52 at the end of this month and I’m wondering if that’s a little old to be falling off mountain bikes.

We stopped for our lunch by this rock formation -- "public art" I'm sure someone calls it. It was at a cross roads of trails and across from the style and the path down to the river, shown at the end of this post. It was a lovely walk down the path, but we stayed at the top rather than leave the bikes. We sat and ate in the sunshine, with the stone wall as shelter from the wind. Bill and I took grilled chicken strips, fruit salad and a carrot and raisin salad. John brought tortilla wraps, pork pies and 'Harrogate cold tea fruit cake', which he generously shared. Bob brought a flask of tea, which is par for him.

This was Bob's first day on a bike in over 15 years; he also had a bad cold that made the up hill climbs even harder. I think considering those two factors he did brilliantly.

John and Bill were both on road bikes so I had a small advantage on the rough terrain, but I’m a huge chicken going down hill on gravel. I have a permanent dent in my left thigh from a fall several years ago. I was trying to stop on a gravel road and ended up in a pretzel with my own weight pressing the bicycyle into my leg. I remember it took me quite a while to figure out how to extract myself as I was on my own.

John and Bill were both on hand this time, where the problem was the steep down hill and the big rocks. I was lucky that I ended up in a ditch with the bike mainly on top of the ditch instead of me. I still managed to land in a way that required assistance to get untangled. I never understand how I do that.

It’s been a glorious day today, as you can see from these pictures. There were lots of families out with children and dogs, prams (perambulators), tricycles, bikes. John and Bill think we have identified about a 10 mile race course. Bob and I aren’t as certain, but our judgement might be coloured by our cycling experiences. We’ll have to go back and run the course to make a further assessment; I may have to just let the guys go to that by themselves, we’ll see.

Brooks' Books

Well, I've been completely absorbed yesterday and this morning by Geraldine Brooks' People of the Book. It is set in several different countries in several different centuries and I couldn't put it down. It's about the history and preservation of a very old and valuable book; that's all I'll tell you. You must go get it for yourself!

Jane brought me Brooks' first book, Year of Wonders. It was also a page turner but, I warn you not for those inclined to be depressed. It's about the plague and whilst it's not without some positive thoughts, it is very sad.

She's written a book called March, a Pulitzer Prize winner, apparently. I'm definitely going to find that and the others she's written. I'm in awe and feel blessed to have discovered another brilliant writer.