Just over a year ago, I just my hair short. As in, less-than-one-inch short. The shortest that it's ever been . . . until now, that is. When I first got my hair cropped, the Best Husband Ever said that he liked it -- and that he thought it would fabulous even shorter. Hmm. As weird as it sounds, the idea got stuck in my head and would not leave.
So, at long last, I acted on the idea. This week I asked the Best Husband Ever to shave my head. Excited, we set up shop in the bathroom and the shearing began. Just in time for Friday Firsts, this is the first time I've ever had this little hair.
At first I really did not like it. Not only does my scalp now attach a la velcro to any fibrous object which comes within a square foot of my scalp, I look kind of man-ish. (No, not manly -- man-ish, thank you very much.) Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror I jumped with the renewed shock of my near-baldness. Thankfully, the Best Husband Ever likes it. A lot, it seems.
The hair sacrifice went down on Wednesday. Now that I've had time to adjust to the fact that I have more hair in my two eyebrows than on my entire scalp, I like the new 'do (or lack thereof) better. I still think I look like a bad G.I. Jane wanna-be, and it feels like there's a constant draft blowing at my nearly naked head, but I'm making my peace. It's actually kind of cool. I might do it again when the weather turns warm enough that I'll appreciate an all natural personal air conditioner more.
The moral of the story? Well, there isn't one, really. Sorry. If you're looking for something more insightful, check out my Miracle post, because you all left me such thoughtfully crafted comments. Regarding my sandpaper head, however, it was all in good fun. But I'm glad I tried it. Now I know that baldness, as neat-o as it might seem, is probably not for me. I'll stick with my one-inch follicles, thanks. But I'm glad I did it. And I think the hubby is, too. How's that for couple's night?
Thankfully (for all you foodies who find my hair adventures a bit strange, at best), I also have a first-y recipe. This week I found some yummy sounding all natural apple spice mustard on sale in the grocery store. Mustard? With apple? And spices (which were simply listed as "spices" on the ingredients list, which I found a tad unsettling)? I was in. On the back of the jar I found a recipe for Rainbow Slaw.
A long-standing source of [rather unappreciated] amusement in my family is my penchant for cabbage salad. Specifically, for my grandma's cabbage salad. For as long I can remember, I have gobbled down this amazing cabbage salad that she would serve when we visited her for a meal. I have since attempted to recreate that ambrosia of the salad world, but as you might expect, nothing beats Grandma's. To my knowledge, she would mix up super-minced green cabbage with vinegar, olive oil, salt, pepper, sugar, and a few tomatoes, then let the whole thing marinate in the fridge. By the time I arrived, it had achieved perfection. Everyone at the table knew to leave plenty of cabbage salad for me.
Let me be clear -- the following recipe, based off of the one I found on the jar of apple spice mustard, is not my grandma's salad. But it's pretty darn good, and healthy to boot. I expected it to bother my stomach, but strangely (and wonderfully) it does not. I added slices of turkey bacon to my second attempt at this but didn't think they added much. Try it and see what you think, then check in here with tasty alterations. I can't wait to see what you come up with!
Colorful Cabbage Slaw
3 T cider vinegar
2 T apple spice mustard (or your favorite mustard -- Dijon would work)
1 packet of stevia OR 1/2 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
dash of onion powder
sprinkle of sliced garlic
1.5 cups shredded green cabbage
3/4 cup shredded red cabbage
1 large carrot, shredded or thinly sliced
1/2 red apple, cut into thin matchsticks
In a large bowl, mix the first 6 ingredients together. Adjust the sugar, salt, onion, and garlic according to taste and preference. Add the vegetables and toss until coated. Serve immediately, or cover and chill for up to 2 hours.
Makes 1 big personal salad, or 4-6 side salads.