Chopitty Chop Chop Chop

A couple of years ago Susan wrote about having a haircut and donating the resulting excess hair to cancer charity Fake Hair, Don't Care.

Time rolls around, and last week she emailed the hairdresser for a repeat performance. I happened to be in the room at the time and said "make one for me, too". I must admit I was in two minds about having a haircut, but it's been getting to the stage where I had to get my hair exactly right, otherwise it was in the way.

Anyways: last Friday we fronted at the hairdresser's and I had my first haircut in 6 years - the last time was in preparation for a work season that was demolished by the plague in 2020. Not all of my hair was suitable for wig making, but she did find enough to make a serious hank. The rest had been damaged, presumably by one or other if my treatments.

Before. I didn't realise that it was quite that long - or stylish.

The donation has been taken, now it's time to shape the rest

My hair, yesterday

It's still long enough (just) to put in a hair band for that aged rocker look, but I do feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.