I realized recently that the last real haircut I had was during the Clinton administration.
In a fit of spring fever (64 fahrenheits, low 20s for the rest of the world) walking around town in my shirtsleeves, I checked myself into a Salon purely on account of the green on the walls. It was the same brilliant green I’ve been staring at all spring. The color of the beads on the past triptych. The lady was great. Although I think she liked my haircut better than I did. I remain dubious, although it is nice to have it short for spring.
True, this is only peripherally fiber related, except I have this huge hank of my hair I was staring at wondering if it felted. So I will address it with the machine tonight and report tomorrow. I suppose it must do something interesting or all those dredlocks wouldn’t work properly. Maybe I can put beads on it.