by Valerie Halla

HAIR

Down to here -Down to there -Down to there?
Down to where?
It stops by itself -Don’t never have to cut it ‘Cause it stops by itself.

I was talking today with my cousin and we mentioned relatives and their hair. Her mother had her course thick hair dyed and permed for many years, but one time she told her hair stylist to color some strands differently. She said that the hair on your scalp isn’t all the same tone. Some hairs are lighter and vary in shades, so she told the gal to change the color up. Don’t color it all black. Whatever the outcome to that hair color session, I am glad I wasn’t there. My mother’s hair got gray while she was still young but one strip of hair in front stayed dark brown for a long time and she looked kind of like a skunk with stripes. Later she had it a lovely silver gray and done in a stylish bouffant that complemented her slim pretty face and hazel eyes.

After my father passed away and we attended my father’s memorial service at Cypress Lawn, we had friends, neighbors and family members over to my parent’s house. My mother and I had bought lots of food and put it out buffet style. Mom hadn’t had time to go to her beauty parlor to get her hair done. As my mom greeted people and kept the food coming, her sister, Loretta, came quietly up next to her with a small thin brush and gently brushed my mom’s hair, patting it in certain places, and tenderly trying to smooth it. She didn’t say a word, but the love was apparent.My mom kept right on talking. I’m sure that gesture helped settle my mom’s nerves since she was still in shock and sadness after losing her husband of 57 years.

Getting your hair done, is quite relaxing and I often get sleepy just sitting in the salon chair, having someone fix my hair. I go away feeling 100% better. I can’t ever replicate the way the stylist fixes my hair, but I love the feeling of someone else pampering me. I think women are obsessed with having nice hair. In the 1960’s, I wore my hair long and straight, even ironing it. My friends and I tried to copy Cher or surfer girl styles. Big hair was popular and hair was big. My friend got me to attend the Aquarius Theater LA performance of the musical “Hair” with my boyfriend, later husband, in the late 1960’s. My friend had seen about 20 performances and knew every line and lyric of the loose plot. The show reflected the times: the draft, the Vietnam War, protests, free love, free speech, hippies, rebellion, flower power, and of course lots of hair. Then there was the nude scene at the end, which in the ‘60’s was quite risqué. I wasn’t sure that I had even seen anyone nude at the end with the lighting turned down low, and a jumble of cast members all posed like statues. Still we felt like this was groundbreaking theater and the songs were good: Aquarius, Good Morning Starshine, I Believe in Love.

My cousin once said she used to color her hair gray, but now she has it a pretty dark brown, cut short. I went with longer hair and blonde streaks. I didn’t want to see how I’d look with the gray. Getting older, we also deal with thinning hair.A thick head of hair is associated with the young. Some politicians and celebrities get expensive scalp surgery to add to their thinning hair, making them maybe feel younger, however, the rest of their body knows. It all goes to show how important we hold our hair. My friends won’t even meet up for coffee or lunch on their “sacred” hair salon appointment days. I wonder when my next appointment is. Can’t wait.

Gimme a head with hair, Long beautiful hair, Shining, gleaming, Streaming, flaxen, waxen,

Hair ( hair hair hair hair hair)- Grow it, Show it, Long as I can grow it, My hair.

I heard a lady talking on the news about a condition called “phone phobia.” She is charging $480.00 per hour to train millenials to talk on the phone instead of relying solely on texting to communicate with friends, family, and business associates.

I had to stop and think about that for a minute…

I have a phone phobia! I hate to talk on the phone. If I call you instead of texting, it’s a real emergency. I will type paragraphs before I will pick up the phone and call someone. If I miss a call, I text and ask if you really meant to call me. I text my kids, my husband, who is sitting across the room, and my friends. I know you can’t text a landline, but every now and then, I try.

So why am I phone phobic?

In my work life, the phone was the bane of my existence. I spent a huge amount of my day returning calls. It was hard to work in the time to take care of the things that I promised to do during those phone conversations. A call from a customer meant there was a problem. We had cell phones, but there was no texting back then. If you’re talking to someone who has a problem, they sometimes restate the issue several times. In a text, they only type it once.

A big part of aging is there is less memory to go around. If I have information in a text, I can refer back to it. If I’m told something in a phone conversation, I won’t remember it long enough to repeat it. I might even think I heard you wrong or missed important details. Worse than that, I might call you up and tell you what you just told me because I forgot it was you who called. I might argue with you when you try to challenge me on the details. This is not going to be easy, is it? I’m starting to hyperventilate just thinking about it.

Nevertheless, I’m going to try to do better. I really do miss the sound of my children’s voices. I think it’s difficult sometimes to read the intended tone into a text conversation. Are they angry, kidding, happy, or sad? Did spell-check change that word? Oh no, spell-check changed my word and I didn’t notice. I once told Cuz Val that Gus had to quarterback for 2 weeks. Spell-check changed quarantine to quarterback. (He had been exposed to covid.) She said, “What team? I’ll be sure and watch!”

I will make it a point to call more rather than texting, but I can’t promise not to be relieved if I get your voicemail.

I guess this will be a New Year’s resolution. I’ve got this! I’ll focus on overcoming my phone phobia rather than eating healthy and exercising. I can only handle one issue at a time.

Anyway, call me sometime…but you might want to follow-up with an email.

We hear it all the time currently, “Happy New Year!” Really?

What if I am not ready? Can I just ignore January 1st? Can I let it go by? Would it hurt to still write 2022 on forms, checks, letters, in journals or diaries? Would it feel any different to not recognize the new year? People might correct me or say I am wacko, crazy and out of touch. That’d be all right. If I ignore this new year, dare I say it: 2023… will it still come, sneak up on me? I do not want it. No thank you. Will it still happen?

The answer is YES. But you knew that. Poets and writers and scholars and scientists and historians have known it. Everyone knows. “Time waits for no man.” Heck, I am still eating Christmas leftovers. There are stains on the table cloth from prime rib. The poinsettia is still vibrant. Tree is up! Some people leave their CHRISTMAS TREES up for months after it’s over. Maybe they think that will ward off the New Year. HA! Nope, no, uh uh.

Then there’s New Year’s Eve. Gosh almighty and darn it. I’m not going to any parties nor celebrations. I’m not drinking any alcohol. Nor am I eating special appetizers. Just leave me alone in my easy chair and I will get through it. I’m going to bed around 10:00 pm like usual, even though the loud fireworks and neighbors will probably wake me around midnight. It’s just another night. Go away.

What’s so new about New Years? They always show some baby in drawings symbolizing a new year next to an old man as the old year. I can identify because I feel pretty old as well. But did that guy get that old in just one year? Is it all a joke?

So have a good time and enjoy the page turning in our book to a New Fresh Baby Year. I’m going to be here in my easy chair…complaining. It’ll just be another day, another year, another baby popping up, happy or not.

CHRISTMAS PREP AND PLANS

Here at our house we have been working on special traditions in cooking and planning, not to mention cleaning and decorating.

My husband preps his fillings for Pierogi for days, cooking potatoes, sautéed onions and grating cheese. He makes a mashed potato filling and stores it in containers. He also fries bacon and chops the crisp bacon finely to add later. Another day he makes a sauerkraut with chopped sautéed mushrooms and onions filling. Then on another day he makes a sticky dough, kneads it and rolls it out. He cuts out circular pieces and puts a small amount of filling on each piece and folds it over, sealing the edges with a fork pressed around the edges. They will be boiled and served hot on Christmas Eve night with sour cream at our big dinner along with prime rib, potato cream cheese casserole, veggies, salad and homemade apple pie for dessert.

I love sending and receiving cards over the holidays. I mailed 60 photo cards this year of our family pose taken on Thanksgiving. Many people sent cards back. We received an interesting one yesterday from Cousin JEFF H. The letter was a holiday quiz with descriptions about each person in his and his wife’s family with a letter given next to each. Then blanks were typed where you could match descriptions with names. A tiny paper was enclosed separately with the answers! Clever and unique idea. Most people sent cards with short messages about how they were doing. I save the cards for sharing with my kids or just rereading later to make me feel the happiness again.

We did not decorate much at all. Getting lazy in old age. Just put out a few poinsettias and little tree. Our two sons arrive today so I make beef stew and cornbread which has been a tradition since they were kids. A few gifts will be passed out this weekend. One fun tradition is seeing the two dogs rip open their gifts! They each get a toy and a special treat. Funny seeing them go at it. So we will enjoy chatting, a movie maybe and some walks downtown, but the joy of the holidays will surround us and being with family is the best part. Happy holidays from our house to yours.

Baba’s riveting Christmas cooking video makes news!!! She discloses that she has a fatal flaw. You heard it here first, folks!!! She is Con-de-sending, which in layman’s terms means she cons de people into sending her recipes. YeaH!

Following her cooking segment, Baba invites us to take a short walk with her while she tries to snag a short interview. I’m happy to say the interviews are short…er the interviewees are short. Or maybe they are short with her. IDK

https://videopress.com/v/8QLVc1BP?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/xjrffZVO?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

I went to see my friends, Pat and Jerry Davis, yesterday with the intention of recording Jerry reading a Grandma June and Grandpa Jim Christmas poem. After we completed that project, we started talking about other things and other songs. I think you will enjoy what I was able to record…

https://videopress.com/v/nOU8WRj7?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

On at least two occasions, Jolly old St Nicholas brought used merchandise to my house. I think I know why. He is a wise Santa and he knew the thing I just had to have was only a momentary desire that would pass in a flash…hardly worth the investment of the new version of whatever I had my heart set on.

There is a very good reason why I can’t sew, knit, iron, cook, or clean house. Murdo High School did not offer a home economics class. Believe me…the world is full of challenges if you are one of the unfortunate few like me, who was never availed the opportunity to take home economics.

The funny thing is…I wasn’t embarrassed or offended when I got something used. Once I got a pre-owned sewing machine. It was a real clunker, too. I remember setting it up on a big table in the open area of the basement house. I also remember sitting there with my dress pattern, my pink fabric and a zipper, wondering what to do next. Mom had asked me if I wanted some help. I soon regretted my impulsive answer. “I can do it by myself!! There’s nothing to it!”

After sitting there for a while and ripping out several misplaced rows of stitches, I decided being a seamstress was not my calling. Mom made me stick with it and even got our neighbor, Roni Poppe, to try and teach me how a sewing machine worked. I think Mom was still smarting because Mrs. Theisen told my cousins and me that the Sanderson girls never did learn how to do anything useful. I finally finished the pink dress. I never could get one of the sleeves in correctly. I had to hold one arm back like I was about to throw a bowling ball for it to hang right.

Mom sold the pink bowling dress at a rummage sale.

Thankfully, I was able to teach myself how to make chocolate chip cookies.

I’m not sure about what happened to that used sewing machine. The table it sat on was in the way everywhere you went in the house. Maybe Mom sold it with the bowling dress.

The next used thing I got was a stereo. That probably should have been new, but at the time, I didn’t question why Santa decided to find me a good used one. I’m sure he runs across good used stuff all of the time. It only had a few scratches and it was on a new stand with rollers. I think my parents regretted Santa’s choice, because it was a year before I could afford to get any new albums. I got two from Billy for Christmas and I played them over and over again. One was the Kingston Trio and the other was Ray Charles. For some reason I really got attached to his song, “I’m Busted.” Not so long ago, I even sang it at Gus’ American Legion Club karaoke night. I knew the words, but apparently, they didn’t have the music in my key. You don’t get a do-over at the American Legion, anyway.

It’s been fun to reminisce about Santa’s second hand gifts. I guess I come by my enjoyment of shopping at resale stores, honestly. Mom used to bring me things she purchased at garage sales. She told me she only went to those in RICH neighborhoods. I appreciated that. It must be difficult to find people who live in RICH neighborhoods who feel the need to get rid of things for a dollar.