Simple Splendor

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Today was my grandma's birthday and we went up to spend the day with her and some family. It was a really nice day and she put on a fantastic spread of food (as usual).

When my cousin's fiance brought up the topic of hairdressers and her need to find a salon for the wedding, my grandad told us a story about his childhood. When he was a teenager, the price for a haircut went up from 6p to a shilling. His father, who was mostly bald, refused to pay an entire shilling for two minutes in the barber's chair. So, while in town one morning, my great-grandfather decided to buy a hair-clipper he had seen in a shop window. He brought it home and convinced my reluctant grandfather to trim his hair for him. He insisted that it wasn't difficult and that, with such little hair, there was no way to mess it up. That's when my grandad accidentally nicked his ear - a whole chunk of flesh! As one would assume, there was plenty of blood and even more foul language. After that, my great-grandfather never once complained about the price of a haircut.

With 80 years worth of experiences, what memories has he kept and which ones has he just let go of? I know I'll never be able to recall everything, but what will I be telling my grandchildren?


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