Mirror, Mirror

Once upon a time, long, long ago, when my Kids were little, one of the Kids (who shall remain nameless) wanted to play hairdresser and I was the victim.  Said Kid twirled and spun my hair and put in a whole packet of bobby pins.  The doorbell rang and we all went to answer it (the Kids were like a flock of ducklings and followed me everywhere).  This was back in the day when there were door-to-door salesmen:  vacuum cleaners, Fuller Brush men, insurance, etc.  "Yes, can I help you?"  The man standing there looked at me, took two steps back, and said, "No, that's okay, thank you," and turned and left.  Well, that was odd.  It was only later that I looked in the mirror and understood his reaction.  I had a helmet of bobby pins and tufts of hair sticking out every which way.  My beautician had created a unique alien look that would have scared any sane male.

I discovered yesterday that the winds had blown down a wall on the well housing, a structure that protects the well pump down by the road.  The housing had been getting pretty decrepit over the years and I knew it would need replacing at some point; I just wasn't ready to do it right now.  However, the best laid plans and all that.  I put in a call to Go-To Guy who said he'd check on material prices and get back to me in the evening with an estimate.  I was finishing a book in the afternoon and was surprised when the doorbell rang.  It was Go-To, who had a cancellation and decided to stop by.  We talked about the well housing, and cabbages and kings, and he went off to his next job.  A short while later I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  Deja vu!  It looked like I had brushed my hair with an egg beater, what with the wind, pulling off my hoodie, and goats rubbing up against me.  I looked absolutely demented.  Laughing hysterically, I called Go-To and asked how he had kept from laughing or screaming when I opened the door.  He laughed and said, "Well, we're friends...."

Note to self:  look in the mirror before answering the doorbell.