Living in a small rural village it's not so easy to find the right hairdresser for oneself. My dad's cousin did the hair of my grandmother and my mother too once, and although she is now well into her sixties herself, I go and visit her nowadays and she cuts my hair.
I want it grey and short. Really, you have such lovely curls, she asked me, why do you want it so short? I think that's the family trait, telling someone of the family who's atleast ten years older than myself, someone who has still lovely straight black hair. Ah yes, she replied, but from whom did you get the curls? I was trying to think of anyone of the family. My dad's uncle was one, his hair went white, and my male cousin the builder.
There are indeed no female family members who has or had long naturaly curly hair, either blond, grey, black or white. Does it matter, I wondered, but the conversation was already on yet another subject matter. I made my hairdresser laugh so much that she gave me at end a bag of figs, a box of brambles, four giant tomatoes, three white roses and a planted plant. I love the countryside old style
