I've had my beard for nearly 40 years. Today I went for a haircut. Now I accept that my hair, or rather lack of it, does not allow a hairdresser much poetic licence. After a quick trim and tidy up - we called it a short back and sides in the old days - the hairdresser was obviously bored and suggested that she trim my beard. Shake of my head. "It could do with tidying up." she opined. Now no one has ever trimmed my beard except me (so far as I can recall) and I really didn't see any need to break the tradition. I did make a major break with many many years practice a year or so ago when I reduced the length on the trimmer from 7mm to 6mm. pretty radical, I thought at the time. Anyway before I could say 'Jack Robinson' (I wonder who Jack Robinson was) she was out of the blocks and away. To my utter horror my beard is no longer fit to be called a beard. It's little more than a fuzz. Then she started on my eyebrows. At least I still have them!
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