Amateur Hour

When I die, I half-seriously want chiseled on any commemorative stone: "How hard can it be?" because that is so my approach to life. I've posted about this before even though I can't find it now. In so many of my activities, like beekeeping, schooling, gardening, childbirth, house repair, I follow that leading, with varying levels of success. I don't think that "experts" have all the answers; I do believe that people can do more, far more, than they think they can, and most things reward just leaping in and trying.

There are one or two areas, though, that I've discovered this attitude isn't a big help. Household electricity, for one. There are probably one or two others, but the one I'm thinking about right now is even closer to home.

Hairdressing.

I discovered a few years ago that paying through the nose for a really good haircut made a huge difference in my hair, which I've loved for years even with a bad cut. A good one? I'm a hair-goddess. And my spouse wore his hair the same way he had since he was 12 until I talked him into going to Expensive Hair Salon with me, and now he looks. . . updated, and very nice.

All that to say I should have paid closer attention the other day when my nephew and youngest daughter were being very very quiet.