Being a
blonde, for an hour or two, is great fun!






Last night, I was proofreading a novel set in Amish country, having a hard time staying with the project, easily distracted, and sleepy. I decided to spice up my night by trying on one of my blond wigs and dressing in a rather Las Vegas manner. It was fun and rejuvenated my evening! (This is what it's like, working at home, you have to be creative to keep yourself motivated.)

I think of my mom when I play dress-up like this. She also loved to change her hair color. Her version of my wig play was this: She would go to the drugstore and spend a long time perusing the color-in-a-box hair color products. She loved the names: "Sunny Blond," "Vanilla Mist," "Frosted Copper"...eventually she'd settle in on one, purchase it, and then spend a week or so anticipating the fun of changing her hair color.

My favorite Mom memory in this vein is from when I was in high school. When I left in the morning one regular schoolday, my lovely, hip mom had frosted brown/blond hair. When I returned at 3:30, just in time for "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" (our favorite show!)? She had jet black, "Eskimo black" hair!

Bless her heart. She was an adventuress, and I'm my mother's daughter through and through.