Monday; all quiet on the shopping front and the day to get a haircut.
Being somewhat of an advanced age, memory is not what it was.
Easy to forget there are other people in the world.
In any case, lots of us when small, had haircuts at home - or rarely.
I can't remember, when I was small, ever having half-term holidays in February.
You will accuse me of exaggerating the picture inside the hairdresser's shop.
If so, just remove two or three of this lot and you will have an idea of what greeted me.
And so I went to find another shop and was lucky(?) enough to discover a small reasonably empty establishment I had never noticed before, almost hidden between two other buildings.
I am optimistic enough to imagine I will live long enough for it to grow again.
As a fellow golfer once remarked of a similar episode when I needed a haircut in quick time:
"if you tell us the name of your barber we'll get up a gang and go and beat him up!"
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