Blue Haired Lady on the Move

Blue Haired Lady on the Move

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            When this gray-haired Grandma left Mexico for Washington, I filled two suitcases, large and small, with clothing I have yet to wear, with gifts to give, with everything possible I thought I might need, most of which I have not needed. Or wanted.

            At home in Mexico, I live a minimalist life. On the road, I have not learned how to survive with two pair of pants, two shirts and a toothbrush. Sadly, I am constitutionally incapable of traveling lightly.

            Not to mention, my minimal (?) shopping while in Washington. I have picked up a few items. Even though I unloaded gifty things I brought for family and friends, for some reason the ratio of unloaded items to items to reload in inversely proportional. Little things, like canning lids with bands, impossible to find in my small town. Larger things like printer ink cartridges. And sheets, just because. Not to mention a couple other essential unmentionables.

There might be a universal law in effect here. To my consternation, friends told me snow fell in the mountains. Our class reunion is in Glacier National Park this year, so that is my first Montana destination. Conditions are such that one might freeze or fry.

I am not worried about the fires. I feel kinship with Sam McGee. However, I do not “do” cold. In a small panic, I bought waterproof hiking boots, two jackets, gloves, a hat and two sweaters. (Thank you Goodwill.)

Consequently I made a dry run with my suitcases and was forced to come up with a Plan B. I filled a box, hiked it to the post office and mailed it to my daughter where we will meet up later.

Once I give my daughter and family the remainder of my gifts, I am certain to have room to stuff everything back into my suitcases in October. Between now and then, I cannot allow myself to buy or accept one more item. None. Nada. Zero. That’s all folks.

Maybe one more pair of jeans. But that is all. Really.

So where does the blue hair enter the picture? I have never been one to fuss with my looks, have never dyed my hair. So my natural me is gray/brown. Five years ago, I might have said brown/gray. Such is progress. Or is that regress?

Bright blue is the result of a granddaughter-grandmother bonding experience, instigated by Kristen, my son’s girlfriend. One afternoon she painted portions of our hair blue. I rather like it, despite a few startled glances from strangers, offset by gracious comments. Both Lexi and I have a few striking blue strands on the right sides of our heads. It is fun. And in a couple weeks, it will wash out. Fun with an end-by date.

When I get off the plane in Great Falls, you will recognize me. I am the blue-haired lady in the parka and mukluks, lugging entirely too much stuff behind me.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

September 20, 2018

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