Cutting edge

The dogs and I have all had a clip since I last blogged. It has been a VERY expensive few days.

I was ashamed when I dropped bedraggled Charlie off at Sugar Paws and the groomer announced she would need to shave his tail to remove the matted fur.

When I returned to collect the doggos they were both wearing cute little red ties. Those cute little red ties were warning signs that I was about to be charged a freaking fortune.

I blanched, paid and asked to rebook, as I am very keen for Charlie’s back claw not to get caught in an ear knot again.

I suggested he should have an appointment in three months time.

The groomer replied that most clients book six-weekly appointments.

Ah. No. This client won’t be.

I don’t even get my own hair done every six weeks. I spend about two weeks at the end of every hair colour cycle spraying my roots to hide the grey to save money (and time – getting your hair coloured takes FOREVER).

So the doggos are booked in for recurring two monthly appointments.

Meanwhile I rocked up to my hairdresser on Saturday uncertain as to why I was there. Was it for a cut or a colour? My roots were a little grey, but there wasn’t the massive streak they normally sport when I cough up for the royal treatment.

It turned out to be a cut. I am heading back in two weeks for a colour. The hairdresser gave me a thorough going over with his new mega thinners.

In other hair-related news, I came home one night last week to find my pandemic purchased Kmart dog clippers on the dining table and a pelt of hair in the bathtub.

Sure enough, next time I saw the eldest and their friend they both looked like Sinead O’Connor ‘Nothing Compares 2 U” understudies.

Sometimes I wish I had a shaved head. Much easier to maintain.

As for the rest of the weekend, it involved some major chitter chat. I raised a glass to a friend turning 50 and ran into another friend I haven’t seen for yonks after a gym session. Such occasions invariably involve lengthy discussion of menopause, how expensive/messy/stressful teenagers are, the declining state of our feet/hips/knees/backs and the health kicks we are starting on Monday after we eat all the chocolate and ice cream in the house to get it out of temptation’s way.

Oh and I had a lovely swim at Bilgola, where the water was gloriously warm and the waves were gentle.

Afterwards I lounged around discussing bucket list holiday destinations with DD before we popped down to our favourite local Italian joint, where I hoovered down my regular order of entree-sized fettuccine boscaiola with chilli.

Ace way to end the weekend. Hope you had a good one too.

Song of the day: Cutting Crew “I just died in your arms tonight”