The Home Haircut

“Oh, shoot,” I said, except I didn’t say shoot.

Considering that I was holding a pair of clippers and standing behind my husband, these words were especially foreboding. It’s never good when the hairdresser curses while working. It’s even worse when the hairdresser is barely qualified to plug in the clippers, much less select and change the blade guard.

Even though I have no formal or informal training regarding how to administer men’s haircuts, I have been roped into doing them for the last several years. When a woman shows up on a remote ranch, someone immediately hands her a pair of clippers and all the cowboys line up. It’s weird.

Cowboys live a long ways from town and a barbershop, and I guess they figure women have a knack for cutting hair.

Ha.

I’ll take full credit for single-handedly proving them wrong.

The worst haircut I have given to date happened a few days ago in my kitchen. My husband wanted me to try giving him a high and tight, so he handed me his phone to watch a YouTube video. After 18 minutes, I said “She makes it look easy, but I’m not fooled. I will probably screw this up.”

“You told me to watch a YouTube video and install your car stereo, so get the scissors and give it a try,” Jim replied.

You’d think someone would be more interested in their hairdresser’s proper training and education. But, you’d be wrong, if that someone was a cowboy with extremely limited barbering options.

While the kids were occupied in the bath, I used the bare clippers on the base of Jim’s head. I carefully took them straight up, not following the curve of his head. So far, so good. Just like the woman in the video. I grabbed the scissors that once upon a time came in a haircut kit but have since been used to open bags of goldfish crackers, cut through cardboard boxes, and slice through string. Once snip of the hair revealed they were way too dull for the task at hand.

So, I grabbed a number two blade guard and took the low-skill approach to finishing the haircut. By now, the kids were out of the bath and the little one was angry. I held him with one arm and ran the clippers with my non-dominant hand.

I have no idea why I do the things I do sometimes.

I tried to smoothly blend the short back with the slightly longer top, but the toddler’s spastic reaching for the clippers caused me to equally spastically jerk him away from his dad’s head. Naturally, this affected my ability to run the clippers in a controlled manner.

The haircut quickly acquired a variety of straight lines, sharp corners, and indentations.

“This looks like shit,” I dejectedly told Jim.

“It’s okay, you’re doing good, just keep blending.”

God bless that man for being so helpful and encouraging, even as his wife was butchering his hair.

I grabbed the number zero blade guard, because I’d never seen one before and I thought it might help blend the short area into the too-short area. One buzz in proved that theory wrong.

That’s when I cussed again and said there was no hope. He would just have to wear a hat 24/7 until his hair grew out. Possibly longer, to prevent me from trying to give him another home haircut.

Can you guess where I experimented with the number zero blade guard? If you think this looks bad, you should see what I did to his sideburns. I miss Nevada, where I could just take a number two blade guard to the whole thing, leave a forelock, and call it good.

DSC_0414 (456x500)

Advertisements

About Jolyn Young

I grew up in California, way up north near the Oregon border. My family raised commercial Herefords long enough to get me hooked on cowboying, for better or for worse, but not for prosperity. I met my husband, Jim, when we were working for neighboring ranches in North Fork, Nevada. We fell in love, got married and had a baby - kind of in that order. We now live on the O RO Ranch in northern Arizona, where Jim works as a cowboy and I take care of our two kids and write a blog and various freelance assignments. I love the Lord and credit Him with all my victories and accomplishments. More important than anything I accomplish or don't accomplish, though, is the eternal salvation of my soul that believing in Jesus promises me. Thanks for your time. Have a great day!
This entry was posted in Ranch Wifery and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Home Haircut

  1. Reta Chastain says:

    Honey, you did good and I say this because many years ago I gave my husband (now gone away and I miss him still) a hair cut that just happened to look close to Jim’s! My hubby was sweet like your Jim and accepted how it looked. However mine found a good barber and relieved me of this duty, sweetly and without upsetting me in the least. I realize you are miles from nowhere but I bet you get a ‘few’ videos from other ‘barbers’.

    I so enjoy your ‘tales’, you are blessed with Jim and your babies. What I would give to walk outside at night , tilt my head to look at the night sky and behold the beautiful milky way spread across the sky. Please, if you are not too tired, could you do that for me tonight, and maybe get a cuddle in with hubby!! Always find time for those my dear!

    Thank you for the joy you give me. Hugs to you and your family!

    Reta from the Willamette Valley, Oregon

    • Jolyn Young says:

      Thanks so much for your sweet note, Reta! I am very grateful for our happy little cowboy family life, that’s for sure. I’m going to do some more video research on home haircuts and try again in a few weeks! We have a son, too, so I have double the chances for practice 🙂 Take care and God bless! Oh, and my daughter loves to look at the moon and stars as well. You would like her.

  2. Reta Chastain says:

    Have a wonderful week-end!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s