Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

The barber shops are all closed, and they have been for a while. That might not have been a problem if somebody could have told our hair to quit growing. But having reached that point in life where we'd just as soon hang on to our hair for as long as we can, I'm not sure I'd really want it to stop growing. So in a moment of weakness, or perhaps insanity, Valerie and I convinced each other that we could actually give each other a haircut. That might not seem so strange, but there is actually some history here. On both sides. 

Valerie has told me that years ago in her early days with Gospel Recordings, she used to hide when Joy Ridderhof, the founder of the mission, came looking for someone to do her hair. Joy's hair was too fine, about the texture of mine, I would guess. Apparently Valerie was less concerned with the results today than she was then.

And years ago when the kids were little and the budget was tight, I bought some hair clippers and convinced Joan that she could cut my hair. Unfortunately I made a tactical error.  I read the instructions to her as she was cutting my hair, particularly the line that said, "remember, you can always go back and cut more later...." I confess to reading it repeatedly. Along about the 19th repetition, Joan informed me that going back later was no longer an option. So the clippers sat unused until I tried giving Matt a haircut and nipped his ear in the process. I'm pretty sure I never told Valerie about that nipped ear until after today's cuts.

Valerie's cousin cuts hair, and she does an excellent job of it. Unfortunately she's in Canada, and the border is closed to all but essential traffic. No matter how I may feel, I'm pretty sure I don't have any chance of convincing the folks at the border that our haircuts are essential.

So there we were this morning, shaggy and desperate.  And desperate times call for desperate measures. Amid much laughter and mutual encouragement, I cut my wife's hair, and she cut mine. I'm happy to report that her ears are intact (and so are mine). The results, what we can see of them, look pretty decent, and the good news is that it will be at least another month before the barbers and beauty salons open again; there's time to grow. In fact there might even be time to practice again. And when those shops do open again, I'll be ready with an appropriately big tip when the lovely lady who usually cuts our hair wonders what happened.