Holly, that means soooooooo much to me! Thank you, for listening and for the very kind compliment. When I was teaching, one of my favorite things to do with my young students, was to tell them a story, or to read them a story, so your compliment has really lifted my heart today.
When I was listening, I thought about how incredibly fortunate your students were. My 2nd grade teacher was a very hard woman, but after recess we’d come in, put our heads on our desks, and she would read to us. Thus began my love of story.
That is so beautiful...yes, having our teachers read to us, was magical. I am picturing you at your desk, head down, knowing that your teacher would, as each day she did, read to you all and in your mind, you created the illustrations as only you could.
I absolutely love listening to you read your story! Marvelous! Oh the “hair isn’t right” days! It started with a pair of scissors and a desire for bangs. Something different. Of course, that would make swooping my hair back in a ponytail or three pigtails (my mom’s favorite) somewhat difficult without the use of bobby-pins and a prayer! But not today! No, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got the scissors and began my own creative expressions! Oh, it felt good. Proud of myself, I walked downstairs waiting for the praise to come pouring forth. “Did you cut your hair?” My mom’s question seemed to take forever; each word punctuated with an exhalation. Immediately I regretted my decision and, of course replied, “No.” Look, you just can’t go from hair that’s 5” long to barely an inch (on one side) without it being noticeable. I don’t remember much after that. It wasn’t until high school that I was confident enough to experiment with different styles, sans cutting!
Ahhh...waiting for the praise, and being hit with, "Did you cut your hair?" and the way that you painted that scene with words...I felt like I was there! You HAD to say "No" for self preservation, ego preservation! How liberating it must have felt to experiment! I imagine that too came with a dose of trepidation as that age is so rife with, but in my head, I am hoping that that self expression carried a freedom. I think you bring up such an important point...that of self expression. If one is having fun with hair, makeup, clothing and does not feel bound to societal expectations to do so, that is, freedom. Thank you, Dearest Friend and fellow story teller.
Growing up, my mom always had my hair cut incredibly short! No bangs, just pixie cuts. I do not remember what I did with it in elemnetary school (the pictures were awful), but later, I also went through the shag era and the Dorothy Hamil look (into college with that one). Perms, hair drying, and curling irons of every size were used. My hair was naturally wavy but it was never enough for me. I grew it out for my oldest daughter's wedding and have kept it longer since. One day my daughter said, Mom, your hair is so curly! You should wear it like that all the time." I stopped drying it because it took too long! My hair has become curlier with age to the point where I gel it, scrunch it, and go. If it gets unruly, into a ponytail it goes or a messy bun. I haven't given in to the graying yet, but at some point I'm sure I will. For now, it's what it is. My husband can't stand the amount that falls out, but at least I still have a full head of thick hair that works for me.
I love that, "That works for me" and that's what matters!! Thank you Mary, for your hair stories! Ahhhh...the Dorthy Hamil...the girls who could wear it always looked so chic as their hair moved when they turned this way or that.
Oh Mary, I love the voiceover!!! You have an amazing storytelling voice!
Holly, that means soooooooo much to me! Thank you, for listening and for the very kind compliment. When I was teaching, one of my favorite things to do with my young students, was to tell them a story, or to read them a story, so your compliment has really lifted my heart today.
When I was listening, I thought about how incredibly fortunate your students were. My 2nd grade teacher was a very hard woman, but after recess we’d come in, put our heads on our desks, and she would read to us. Thus began my love of story.
That is so beautiful...yes, having our teachers read to us, was magical. I am picturing you at your desk, head down, knowing that your teacher would, as each day she did, read to you all and in your mind, you created the illustrations as only you could.
I absolutely love listening to you read your story! Marvelous! Oh the “hair isn’t right” days! It started with a pair of scissors and a desire for bangs. Something different. Of course, that would make swooping my hair back in a ponytail or three pigtails (my mom’s favorite) somewhat difficult without the use of bobby-pins and a prayer! But not today! No, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got the scissors and began my own creative expressions! Oh, it felt good. Proud of myself, I walked downstairs waiting for the praise to come pouring forth. “Did you cut your hair?” My mom’s question seemed to take forever; each word punctuated with an exhalation. Immediately I regretted my decision and, of course replied, “No.” Look, you just can’t go from hair that’s 5” long to barely an inch (on one side) without it being noticeable. I don’t remember much after that. It wasn’t until high school that I was confident enough to experiment with different styles, sans cutting!
Ahhh...waiting for the praise, and being hit with, "Did you cut your hair?" and the way that you painted that scene with words...I felt like I was there! You HAD to say "No" for self preservation, ego preservation! How liberating it must have felt to experiment! I imagine that too came with a dose of trepidation as that age is so rife with, but in my head, I am hoping that that self expression carried a freedom. I think you bring up such an important point...that of self expression. If one is having fun with hair, makeup, clothing and does not feel bound to societal expectations to do so, that is, freedom. Thank you, Dearest Friend and fellow story teller.
Growing up, my mom always had my hair cut incredibly short! No bangs, just pixie cuts. I do not remember what I did with it in elemnetary school (the pictures were awful), but later, I also went through the shag era and the Dorothy Hamil look (into college with that one). Perms, hair drying, and curling irons of every size were used. My hair was naturally wavy but it was never enough for me. I grew it out for my oldest daughter's wedding and have kept it longer since. One day my daughter said, Mom, your hair is so curly! You should wear it like that all the time." I stopped drying it because it took too long! My hair has become curlier with age to the point where I gel it, scrunch it, and go. If it gets unruly, into a ponytail it goes or a messy bun. I haven't given in to the graying yet, but at some point I'm sure I will. For now, it's what it is. My husband can't stand the amount that falls out, but at least I still have a full head of thick hair that works for me.
I love that, "That works for me" and that's what matters!! Thank you Mary, for your hair stories! Ahhhh...the Dorthy Hamil...the girls who could wear it always looked so chic as their hair moved when they turned this way or that.