Life is a Scribble.

What a roller coaster ride of emotions. I guess that is fitting for Santa Clarita Valley, home of Magic Mountain and the best selection of roller coasters all in one location!

So, second time around, dealing with emotions of elation, nostalgia - - - I was rushing around this morning to all my local haunts, while I knew where I was, i.e. Michael s, Sally’s Beauty Supply, my local pharmacy, where we are all on a first name basis. Sad but true. Lol 

Driving the Toad to meet up with Mark. who was getting the tire pressure checked on the Tumbleweed, I turned the music up and was mentally thinking, “This may be the last time I ever drive around in this area by myself.” (sigh) – Then the radio pops on with Tom Petty, “Don’t come around here no more . . . Well fine! If that’s how you feel. And here I was feeling all sad.

Seriously though, I am ready to let go of everything. Everything but my hair dresser. I just LOVE her! Is it wrong to kidnap, wait no, hijack, uh, invite my hairstylist to travel with us? I’d even turn the Toad into a temporary chicken-coop for her beloved little egg-layers!

I went in to see her yesterday, for a final root touch up and a special panel of purple on my underneath layer. You can only see the purple if I pull my hair up, otherwise it only peeks out on occasion. 

(I call it my quiet rebellion)…

I was SO excited to get to see Cheri again. I got in the lift, went up to the second floor, opened the Salon door and I have NEVER sucked in so much air in one gasp as I did at that moment! (Diminished lung capacity my tooshy!) 

The whole place had been cleaned out, down to the bare cement! No paint! No flooring! What the heck!!! Cheri and the posse had been kidnapped! Of course that was just a fleeting, first thought.

They must have moved! Had I really been gone that long? This place could not have been anymore dismantled unless they had knocked out the sheet rock as well.  

I went back to my car to ring Cheri and left a voice mail message. I looked the Salon up on-line and they were still listed at the same address. So I rang Cheri again, and again, got her answering machine. Left another message, almost in tears. I was feeling very, I don’t know – like I had just walked into a Twilight Zone episode!

Meanwhile, Cheri, at her NEW LOCATION was waiting for me, and getting annoyed with her phone as it kept buzzing and buzzing (me calling) as she was trying to set-up for my color appointment.

Long story short; the original salon owner had given the staff a two week notice and Cheri was now working at another salon just down the road. As this happened a few months ago, she assumed I knew. 

Once she got annoyed enough to pick up her phone and see who was pestering her, we got things sorted out and I was at the new salon in no time. Seeing those big, blue smiling eyes brought me back to happy. Plus, the new salon is lovely! Much better for her, perfect fit.

And can I just say, I don’t just love Cheri because she does such a good job on my hair. I love her because she is one of those rare people who, especially in this industry, does not look at you like an ATM; pushing product and costly unneeded treatments at you, trying to see how much they can pull out from any one visit. 

Cheri cares about each of her clients on a personal level. She has the amazing gift of remembering the most minute details of your life. Okay, so maybe she forgets slight details of her own life, such as she is working at a new salon…lol. But honestly, she makes you feel cared about and it is not a pretense. It is just who she is. 

SO, with that being said, if you are in this area, and are looking for a great haircut or style, you would be wise to treat yourself to Ch­­eri. She is a jewel.

Here is a pic of her business card at the new location. ­

Cheri darling, I love and miss you already. 

See you when I pass back through!

We are currently driving down LA’s bumpy freeway; are these craters or sink holes?!! And are on our way to the Newport Beach area where my half-sister is in a nursing facility. Her health is fading and I am fortunate to be in the area so that I can spend time with her. 

Hence, (yep, I said hence . . . I am practicing my grown-up words as of late since they keep telling me I am getting old) – our meandering trip to Arizona has been postponed and depending on my sister’s situation, may end up being more of a dash than a meander.

Life and death. 

They call it the Circle of Life. I feel like it is more of a scribble.

It is getting late. After spending the evening with my sister, my heart felt like it had been wrung out like a rag. It is such a helpless feeling to watch someone you love, suffer.

Mark arrived just as I kissed her goodnight. She was finally drifting off into a peaceful sleep after receiving her evening meds. 

As neither of Mark or I had eaten dinner, we stopped at Norm's on the way back to the rig. I cannot believe, in almost a decade of living in CA, we have never been to a Norm's, but there you are. 

 

I like Norm's. It was like mom cooked a comfort meal, just when I needed it most.

Tomorrow I get to spend the day with Jeri. I'll be able to see what her days are like, how her attitude is, check out the quality of her care. I'll pack a DVD player and some fun movies, if she is up for it. I have great memories of the two of us staying up all night, watching Golden Girls or I Love Lucy and seeing her slap her knee in hysterics as she laughed so hard - which of course made me laugh all the harder.

Please keep Jeri in your prayers. Pray for peace, comfort and a heart that is right with God.

Now I will leave you with one of my biggest pet peeves, just because. And guys, you can stop reading here, because you just won't get this:

I hate it when you are in a public restroom, place a paper toilet seat cover atop the toilet seat, go to sit down and "whoosh" the automatic flush goes off and pulls the seat cover down with a flush, just as your bare tooshy lands on an uncovered, God-only-knows-what-germs-are lurking, toilet seat. 

Just had to get that off my chest. It's been a tough day.