Having managed to stay out of trouble for a whole week, it's time for a cigar, a wee dram of scotch, and a recap:
Got really tired of the straight hair look, so I went and got a perm. No, not the little ol lady short hair perm. Never going there. It was supposed to be a spiral perm, and look like this (not the girl, the hair):
Around here things never go quite to plan, so I wasn't too surprised when it turned out to look more like (not the girl, the hair):
This perm, if nothing else, has sure added interest to interactions with others. I went up to my mom and dad's to take care of some things for them. No sooner did I get in the house and my mom frowned and ask if I wanted to go do something with my hair. Nope, it's supposed to look like this!
On the way back to the bunkhouse, I stopped at a boomer deli to pickup a sandwich and a Kilt Lifter. Kind of makes you feel different when the person your talking to keeps staring at your hairdo. My dog still likes me though, and will get over that head tilt eventually.
Took my revolver up home with me. Found that the son of a family friend had recently opened a gunsmith shop. What a difference from my experience with the ol boys club here. He was full of helpful info: about classes, instructors, ranges, and guns. So the revolver stayed with him, is being tweaked, and when done will go back to dad. (Dad mentioned that he missed it.) Which means I can get another to replace it. Everybody wins.
Found a charter bi-plane flying service that will fly up and take dad on his birthday ride. It's not a Stearman, as there were none in the area. The guy that owns the Travel-Air gives rides all the time, and is almost as excited to be taking dad on this flight as I am.
We are having a small party, with his golfing cronies, at Dad's house. Dad doesn't know about the plane ride yet, because to throw him off the scent, I told him I was getting a stripper for his party. From the look on his face I may have over played my hand...