Hair Splinters

Mandatory mask wearing in indoor public spaces kicked in at midnight here, and the evidence is clear, as walking downtown this afternoon, even though the requirement applies only to indoor spaces, near everyone was wearing a mask outside too.

I’m not sure whether this is from an abundance of caution, or due misinterpretation of the rules, but I can’t say that I mind, as many of the sidewalks in town don’t allow a 2 metre separation when passing.

I was downtown on my way to get a haircut (87 days after my last one for those playing the home game); the haircut itself, by a new barber at Ray’s Place, was expertly conducted without need to remove my mask at all.

From my new barber I learned about “hair splinters.” Freshly cut hair is very sharp, i was told, and, just like a wooden splinter, but perhaps even more insidiously, can worm its way into the skin. A constant occupational hazard for barbers, apparently, and a bit like working with fibreglass insulation. I had no idea.

If you see me walking around town, masked and with a new haircut, I wouldn’t mind at all if you said “hey, you got your haircut!” It turns out that one of the many things I miss about Catherine is her exclaiming exactly that when I’d come home after an unexpected one.