Day Twenty-one: Gratitude

I am eking this post in at the last minute so I have to make it down dirty. Today I am grateful for my hair-dresser, Woody. Woody has been my friend for almost twenty years and my hair-dresser for almost six years. He has helped my transition from my real hair color to the best version of my hair color before the grey started popping up in the most noticeable of places.

If I had to pinpoint one thing that I am the most vain about, it is my hair. I am very particular about how it looks and work very hard to have every hair in place. A windy or a rainy day can really put me out of sorts, if my hair gets mussed. I don't know how or when I got so fixated with my coiffure, but it is true. And don't get me started on a bad hair day, it is ugly.

Woody puts up with my pickyness, and he gets my need to have perfect hair. My previous hairgod and I worked very hard to get to the correct angle of my bob and the just right shade of my locks. Sadly Ramie died taking those secrets with him. I miss my friend Ramie more than his hair-dressing skills, but Woody picked up the dye bottle and scissors for my fallen friend. I sat in the chair crying the first time I went to Woody. He just kept soothing me and reminding me that Ramie preferred to laugh. And laugh is exactly what Woody and I do when he works on my hair.

We laugh and tell blond jokes. We laugh and talk about my knitting. We laugh and gossip about some of the people we know. That really is the key here, Woody not only does a good job on my hair, he makes me laugh. I am so grateful he puts up with my demand for redder hair and the world's most perfect bob. I am grateful I found someone who gets just how vain I am about my hair and thinks it is asset, Thanks Woody I look fabulous because you care.