The power goes out and every little thing turns to bollocks. Stupid things, just because it’s dark and the quest for light is an overpowering need. Also, coffee.
Using a flashlight I took a candle out of the pantry and lit it; a beeswax. I’ve gotten a lot of hours from already, which is why it’s my go-to. It’s sitting on the counter while I pop back under the counter into what I think of as my ‘light cubby’.
And bent over like that, my hair caught on fire.
If you’ve not experienced this bit of lunacy… thank goodness. It’s a mess. A big mess.
Ash was everywhere; my clothes, the floor, counter, sink… oh, along with burnt globs of hair.
The smell is such that I’d have preferred a skunk invade my underwear drawer for a week!
Though waking my husband was not on my to-do list a shower was a definite must. As I pulled off my clothes and ponytail thingy more burnt hair and ash… should have done that in the kitchen. (After all, it was dark.)
No, you don’t get pictures. And tomorrow, I’ll hopefully get it repaired or shaved off.
EDIT
Simply adding that six weeks ago my hair was chopped off short. It was much too long, so… impelled by the mythical ‘wild hair’ I gave my husband a pair of shears and told him to cut it off.
And he did.
Now? Bet he thinks I’ve got a hair vendetta.
No, haven’t looked at it yet.
pamibe 