This morning my daughter-in-law showed me an article in the paper about a hair stylist I used to patronize who was opening her own salon; and so I put on my coat and went down and made an appointment and GOT MY HAIR COLORED to hide the grey. Now I know it is still there and I am still 60. but I think I look more vibrant – my hair had become just a really mousy, faded greyish brown for about half-way down my head.

I guess I will be doing this every six weeks now, and maybe when I firm up, I will have it cut. Right now, I am keeping it long enough to pull back neatly into a barrette; that seems especially important with the humidity of summer coming on.

One thing, though. My hair has always felt like corn silk. Now it feels the way I would imagine that “green foamy – cover bare spots in your yard –  replacement grass” would feel. However, my imagination may be overactive.

At least maybe now they will let me in the Foo Bar, since they said I was so dowdy I would have to stay in the PBC&R all the time. Gosh, that hurt.

Summer and Der Bingle are at the movies – The Watchman, or something like that. It’s 2 hours and 43 minutes so Summer should get her money’s worth with Coke and popcorn refills.

Look at the title of this blog. Is not the word cow in it? Am I not a cow? Yet all this talk is about the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse – that weather-worn old place where all those kooks gather, AmeliaJake, the ringleader kook and, now, that darn Foo Bar.

Well, I want to know when it is going to be spring and when I am going to be contented and to announce I personally have never been tipped in my life. Okay, I’m hanging, but that’s not the point.

I am going to tell this – with a pleased little smile on my face. Today I was with Alison and then she left to go somewhere and later a man asked me if my “sister” would be returning. YES!

I was wearing red and my mother used to say that was my color – maybe I’ll go out and buy some more red things. Or get a good sunburn. Maybe the facial exercises are working.

Oh, what if that man had vision problems?  Nah, I am going to keep feeling upbeat about this. I suppose it’s petty, but hey, it feels good.

When I was in early grade school, February and March were times of drawing pussy willows, of putting them in vases, of looking at their greyness. They were dull months. One positive factor, though, was that since I am not a good drawer, pussy willows were within my scope. Draw a line and put little blobbie things alternately on the sides. The bare trees of winter were easily done as well, but they were also dull. I have one that I drew from back then. It was on a calendar I made for my father for Christmas – the teacher gave us little a very small pad of the months to glue on the bottom of the drawing. My mother found it in my dad’s desk after he died. All those years – he kept that dull, unattractive drawing on purplish paper. When I first saw it, I wanted to tell him I was so sorry I drew so badly.

I don’t think of pussy willows or winter trees too often, but I saw a picture of a pussy willow today and I don’t like them even when they are really well photographed in their glory. I suppose they have some admirers – probably minimalists. But then maybe minimalists only look at them a minimal amount of time.

Now the bears and Grover will need some greenery.

I have watched Goodbye, Mr. Chips with Peter O’Toole several times, but I can’t make it through the movie anymore. Usually I avoid it because it makes me feel so sad, but today I saw it listed and as I flipped through the channels there he was in the theater in Pompei. Eating his egg sandwich.

The sun is shining here and I thought why not? Well, I had to turn it off when it came to the part where he is passed over for the headmaster position because of that dreadful Lord Sutterwick. Almost in tears.

I, along with Summer, received this text message form Der Bingle in Ohio:

Grover and friends on his new couch in his room.  There is a sign on the door that says “No Summers Allowed.” It explains the picture below:

And here is a close-up so we can all feel really happy for Grover on his sofa with his friends and the TV remotes.

Yes, LZP**, has sent a video of a bear in the woods. No, no, no . . . don’t panic. It’s not THAT.

pole-dance

He says to make sure you have the sound up. If you’re in a library, you might want to ignore that suggestion.

**LZP has sent a little self-commentary. He emailed a picture of a brain:

And he he emailed a picture of a brain on drugs. Want to see that picture?  Look HERE. Well, they both look yellow, but LZP can’t be yellow – you have to be really brave to wear a B-suit out in public.

I don’t usually make political comments here, but I really wanted to cite this article containing this quote:

Five Guantanamo prisoners accused in the September 11, 2001, terror attacks on the U.S. staunchly defended their actions, calling the operation “blessed” and “great” and the accusations against them “badges of honor.”

“Our religion is a religion of fear and terror to the enemies of God: the Jews, Christians and pagans. With God’s willing, we are terrorists to the bone.”

“Your end is very near and your fall will be just as the fall of the towers on the blessed 9/11 day,” the court filing said.

Now, I know some people are upset about the alleged treatment of suspected terrorists operating in the name of Islam who have been detained. I think those people need to keep this quoted philosophy in mind.

I have posted my weight in the dining room and whe I have lost 35 pounds, I am going to California, come Hell or High Water. I suppose I have lots of time to make plans, but when I think of eating extra food, unnecessary food, I am going to look at this place and think of California and I hope that will work.

I could strive to be a better person, but I opted for California.

UPDATE: Okay, maybe I was a little rash . . . but I’m sticking to the deal.