Bye-Bye Hair

For most girls with long hair, their locks are a part of their identity.

Until a mean old news director forced me into a brunette bob with bangs about five years ago, I didn't think much of my hair.

Apparently he wanted me to look older and more credible.

Instead, I ended up looking like a 12 year old boy.

 Now that I am older, I've got to do things in reverse.

I grew my hair out and dyed it blond.

Excuse me, colored it blond. I've been told that my salon vocabulary sucks.

Long blond hair was my answer to 30 looming.

But two years ago I made a promise to myself that I would donate my hair to Locks of Love.

The deadlines I gave myself kept coming and going because I wasn't quite ready to part with my youth.

And then one day a few weeks ago I woke up, looked in the mirror, and realized what a stringy, straggly mess I had going on.

I don't want to be like the 55 year old dude with the balding mullet ponytail. Also knows as the elusive skullet-tail.

Pushing 30 and still trying to look 20 isn't cool.

So I took the plunge.

And now I look 40.

Sweet.

Or like a news anchor wanna-be.

And I don't wanna be.

All jokes aside, I actually like it short. The friend who cut my hair did an awesome job. I love the cut and color.

But to go all you people who say, "Oh, short hair will be so much easier to take care of," you can kiss my butt with that big fat lie.

When your hair is too short for a pony tail, too short for a braid and even too short for a friggin' clip, there ain't nothing easy about it.

My day starts off with about a thousand different hair products, a regular brush, a hair dryer, a round brush, hot rollers, a rat tail comb, a flat iron and two kinds of hair spray.

Okay, not everyday.

More like two days a week.

I rock a hat the other five days.

And you know it's a desperate situation when all that's around is a camo hat and I am willing to put it on.

I think we all know my opinion on the use of camouflage as a fashion statement outside of hunting.

Fall on the Farm

So I got a little carried away with decorating both sides of the farm sign this year.

But two dump truck loads of mulch, 6 straw bales, 4 corn bundles, 4 mums, 15 yards of ribbon and 16 pumpkins later, I am pleased with my work.

But don't blink because it didn't last long.

First, five inches of snow smashed and threatened to kill my mums.

Then, I forgot to water the mums.

At all.

Okay, I didn't forget, I'm just lazy.

Then, the deer made off with my pumpkins and scattered them in the field.

Awesome.

Thanks buttheads.

That's alright. Let them have their fun now. Those poor guys only have a couple more weeks to live anyway.

That's when the camo-clad gun-toting rednecks start coming out in full force.

AKA: my husband and his hunting buddies on opening day of gun season.

And I have no idea what this is all about, but it's disgusting.

So basically the sign no longer looks anything like the picture above.

But, my sign decorating disaster aside, the rest of the farm is gorgeous right now.

The bright green sod fields with the backdrop of the corn fields, sprinkled in with some fall foliage is enough to make anyone feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Thank goodness my husband is better at growing things than I am at decorating.

He's quite proud of his latest turf fields.

He just planted this grass less than two months ago and it's already thick, lush and beautiful.

It takes a special tree to grow in the middle of one of the sod fields and be allowed to live to see another day.

Luckily for this guy, he's a Sycamore and my husband has a slight obsession with Sycamores.

Trust me, he's no tree hugger.

He cleared 125 acres of trees to make room for more pastures and crop ground a couple of years ago. And only a few lucky Sycamores survived.

Something about the fact that they grow where there is water.

So don't be surprised if you show up someday and those Sycamores have been replaced by wells and irrigation.

They basically serve as a marking point for the time being.

But in the meantime, they do a better job of decorating the farm in fall colors than I do.

I give up.

But at least the farm office looks warm and festive:

Alright, alright, I'm just kidding.

That's from last year.

I dragged the fall decorations box out and that's all the further I've gotten so far.

And that was two weeks ago.