Santa Claus, salons, and a cockroach

Blogger's eye view.

If you read a previous post, you'll know that another customer beat us by milliseconds in claiming a rug we'd had our eye on at the local furniture clearance center, Branch's.  She was going to take it home on a trial basis. Well, the next day I got a call from Jim ("Jim," like "cat," is two syllables here) who said, "Ah'm Santy Clows today," pleased to announce that our rival had brought the rug back. So, I drove the Big-Ass Truck out Highway 70 and picked it up. It looks like it was meant to be in our dining room. Now, if only we had chairs....  Well, at least there's something soft to sit on, underneath the table.

Most women I know get nervous about switching hairdressers.  There's always the danger of going in for subtle highlights and coming out a bleached-blonde scarecrow.  But I felt confident about Juanita because of two coincidental recommendations a year apart.  At the downtown New Year's Eve fest last year (80-09), my friend Chris had asked a smartly-turned-out local who did her hair.  "Juanita, at Split Endz."  I'd forgotten about that when, at the risk of being accused of stalking, last week I tracked a different (gee, or maybe the same...) woman into the locker room at our health club to ask her who'd styled her well-layered bob.  "Juanita, at Split Endz."  When I walked in, it was like the greenhorn walking into a saloon in an old Western, when the tinkling piano quiets, conversation ends, the poker players pause in mid-deal, and all the cowboys' heads swivel to squint at the stranger blocking the sun at the swinging door.  It was a small, square room, with ladies in smocks and Medusa-like locks with foil on them perched all around.  A long pause, and then "May I help you?" "I'm looking for Juanita," I said, a la Clint Eastwood.  "That's me," she said. "Could I make an appointment for tomorrow, or the day after?"  "Honey, I'm booked then and for the next week," she said. Juanita must have quite the reputation indeed. "Want to go with one of the other girls?"--very saloon-like. So young Amy, who grew up in New Bern and likes cats, gave me a good haircut.  It's not from the hand of Juanita herself, but it's Juanita Certified.

This was a better experience than at another salon where I went to get a manicure for my moving-box-battered hands. There was a resident chihuahua, in a sportscar-themed doggie bed at the owner's (one presumes) station. So, the sign asking customers to not bring pets inside was probably more out of consideration for Spike than for sanitation. I waited 20 minutes past my appointment time. My assigned manicurist was aflutter because her next client (after her mother) would be the first drag queen she'd ever provided with acrylic tips.  Unfortunately, even with many delays in service, I didn't get to see the performer himself to judge whether he would rival the pros I've seen in P-town and Key West.

Yesterday, we had rain in the morning but it cleared up beautifully and the thermometer hit 70 degrees. I was inside most of the day, though, sorting and stowing. Finally got out late afternoon and saw the movie "It's Complicated" which was great. Only $5, too.

This morning took a walk first thing -- temps were 20 degrees higher here than in South Hadley. It is sinking in that ordinarily at that hour I would've been going through the routine of getting ready for work, probably running late, precoccupied with pending appointments and deadlines. Today, instead, I passed ducks on the pond across the street sounding like annoyed Brooklyn guys saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah." A single Canada goose flew overhead and landed there.

When I got back, Maggie was by the front door intensely interested in something behind a lantern on the floor.  Eeeww, this is not a good sign.  But, it was only a cockroach as big as my thumb. Disposed of offending vermin.  "Good girl! Mighty Hunter!"  Rationale for having a cat in The Swamp.

Another is that cats are good interior decorators. Maggie helped lay down the rug.

Tim should've brought her with him to High Point, furniture capital of the world, where he is doing some scouting on his way back from Atlanta. When you visit, we may have dining room chairs.