It’s al’white. Get it? Ha.

You know you’ve reached a new level of sad in your life when you laugh out loud at your own joke.  Even when it’s not really a joke but a very lame use of words.  And you’re home alone.

I’ve recently been accessorizing myself with white   – with the fashion product that is matt emulsion.  I’ve been sporting it in my hair, speckled over my arms, and if I’m feeling particularly cutting edge, smudged down my forehead and cheeks.

Before now I’ve only used white emulsion as base coats on walls before adding a coat or two of colour.  So it feel’s weird to be piling coat after coat of the white stuff.  It’s a bit like ground hog day.  But I like it.  A lot more forgiving.  And oh my goodness, the room is so much lighter now.  I’ve always always always preferred creams over white for the added warmth but I’m very excited to see how this room shapes up.  Carpet is coming Monday so we’ll have just enough time to bring the house back to normality in time for going away to Soul Survivor camp.

We’re house-swapping in the third week of the summer holidays so we’re all looking forward to slowing down in the very very gorgeous Yorkshire Dales.  This will be the pinnacle of our Summer Staycation (I guess we’re cheating really, because we’re not ‘staying’ at home that week – but you know what I mean) and the girls are loving coming up with ideas for our Summer Staycation List.

Mallorca Schmallorca.

I had my hair cut last week the day before my birthday.  I have not had a lot of luck with hairdressers. Back in 2010 I wrote about some of these hair-nightmares.   This time round was the shortest I’d ever had it cut and ironically it was at the salon that I ended up in at the end of my blog post a couple of years ago.  My regular hair dresser was on holiday so i had a younger girl.  After I’d washed it myself I couldn’t do a thing with it.  Clumps of hair pointed in all directions and all I could do was try to tame it with a hairband.   By yesterday I had had enough.  I had the salon’s number in front of me and I really wanted them to look at my hair, but I bottled it because I would have felt so uncomfortable if the girl had been there.  So I called a different salon and begged them to save my hair.  The owner was so lovely and told me to come over at 6.30.  I got there, sat down and showed her some pictures of what I had been hoping for.  She didn’t say much as she looked through my hair, section by section.  She got a mirror and showed me the back of my hair.  I burst into tears, so horrified at it.  The hairdresser soothed me and told me it would be fine.  She did say that she’d never seen such a bad cut. WHAT ON EARTH??? OF ALL THE HAIRDRESSERS IN THE WORLD, HOW DID I FIND TWO WITHIN A COUPLE OF YEARS THAT MANAGEDTO HACK MY HAIR INTO A MESS THAT HAD THEN HORRIFIED OTHER HAIRDRESSERS?? There were some things the hairdresser could fix, some she couldn’t.  She left the top of my hair to grow but had to cut quite a bit off the sides.  It is super short now but at least its in a definite style that should grow well.

Who knew hair could be so stressful?  What I need is a nice light and white, airy room to calm my nerves…

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