Blue skies over London yesterday, but suddenly so much colder. Time to dig out the gloves and scarves.
I had a haircut. I was getting more and more concerned about my lengthening fringe. In the wrong light it reminded me of Jimmy Saville. Not good. Not good at all.
The hairdresser at Vidal Sassoon Academy had given up banking to train as a hairdresser. She couldn’t face another thirty years at the bank. I admired her courage. It is hard to give up a good salary, hard to fly in the face of general opinion that sees banking as a good career and hairdressing as rather lower down the scale. She applied her evident intelligence to my hair and the result was the best cut I have had for a couple of years. True, I had hair envy of the woman sitting beside me who was around my age and had glossy and very straight hair. I do like my waves, but the perfect bob, which was what she was having, on such hair, looks so wonderful. My hair does what it likes.
We were both agreed that the music playing in the background was less than inspired. Give me some good rock ‘n’ roll any day she said. How about some Stones? They didn’t have the Stones, but the music was changed and was a bit livelier. No wonder you need those disco biscuits to keep you going she said. This is music to fall asleep to. I had noticed that she had her eyes closed for most of her haircut.
I was reading. I finished the biography of Beatrix Potter which I enjoyed much much more than I could have anticipated, and started on Colm Tóibín’s Testament of Mary which is wonderfully readable and an inspired piece of writing. It was short listed for the Booker Prize, which doesn’t surprise me.
I was reading on the bus on the way home. A waste in a way, because I had the front seat on the upper deck; the Rolls Royce of bus seats; like flying First Class on Concorde. But I looked up at Parliament Square and couldn’t resist fishing out my ‘phone to take this, the clock tower is such an icon.
I need to go to das Boot and get it ready for winter as I am not planning to be there again until the spring. Older Nephew will come with me on Friday to empty the holding tank (does that mean slurry? asked Nephew) provided the weather is ok, and we’ll moor up to ahve lunch at the pub on the way back. So all is well.
I shall see Aunt, and hope we can arrange for her to be able to attend a special service on Sunday at the chapel where we had Mother’s funeral. It is to remember all those who have died in the parish this year.
So just now, MasterB is running about outside while I get sorted. He will be largely confined for the next few days, so this bit of freedom is important. Now to get on with the day.