Anyone who has been following this blog for a while will know that I recently had cataract surgery. Now any woman who has had this procedure will tell you that the new lenses bring every speck of dirt and every cobweb, no matter how high your ceilings are, into sharp detail.
My hair has been various shades of bottled blonde since I was in my thirties. OK, a long time. Even when we’re on the road I colour my hair, slapping on the chemicals and wrapping my head in plastic wrap.
Last weekend I was cleaning the house and colouring my hair, multitasking of course as all women do. Deciding to clean the shower and wash the colour off my hair, I stripped off, leapt into the shower and had the bright idea to scrub the tiles and grout with the leftover peroxide mixture. From top of shower to floor, I scrubbed furiously for I don’t know how long. Then I remembered…my hair!
Now I find that not a lot happens with hair colour for a few hours then it starts to go the way that you would expect. It wasn’t until I walked downstairs a few hours later and Woody said “g’day Red” that I realised that perhaps I should have been a little more focussed…or is that less?