What happened to my eyebrows?

 

Where the hell did my eyebrows go? I have photographic proof that during puberty, I was close to sporting a unibrow. But now? If patchy with a hint of gray were an eyebrow thing - I’d be totally in style. I know that I could just let them be - sparse in places - and just chalk it up to aging. However, I spent a good deal of time perfecting the dramatic one-eyebrow lift...I’m not going to waste all that hard work. So, for the time being I am happy to fill in the missing parts of my eyebrows. 

I wonder...could I transplant the hair on my chin to my eyebrows? I always thought the bearded lady was some kind of myth. An act straight out of Barnum and Bailey’s playbook. Now, in my 60s, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a myth at all. Pluck those little buggers. Shave ‘em. Wax them off. Whatever the method, they always grow back. Why? When my estrogen dried up, my chin seems to have given up the good fight - leaving me thinking that turtlenecks may be a viable fashion option. At least they would hide a few of the longer hairs I can’t see.

Evaporating eyebrows. Chin hair. Ears. Whose bright idea was it to let our ears keep growing? Is it for better sound absorption as we age? What function could bigger ears perform?  At some point my “dangly” earrings will be hitting my shoulders. Will that look weird with the turtlenecks? If I look on the positive, the extra ear length will give me more geography for piercings. Just sayin’.

It’s kinda funny when I think about it. I had no problem letting my hair achieve its natural state and let it go gray about ten years ago. In fact I really like my gray locks. I guess this is all part of the aging process. Before you know it, I’ll be eating dinner at 4:30, calling perfect strangers “honey,” and never driving over the speed limit. Ahhh, something to look forward to.

Confessions of a Curious Bookseller

 

Oh come on, the main character is a “wack-a-doodle” - delusional, a liar, and completely mesmerizing. Elizabeth Green pulled me through the front doors of The Curious Cat Book Emporium, and I didn’t want to leave. The novel is written as emails, journal entries, hand written notes, and text messages. Broken and living with a chip on her shoulder from her childhood, Fawn fights to keep her business alive by any means possible. She is unquestionably out of her mind. BUT, I wanted to know just how this was all going to end. Was there going to be a twist? Was I going to be let down, or would there be an epiphany to save the storyline? I’ll be puzzling out Fawn’s erratic behavior for a long time.

“Holmes on the Range”

 

How many would-be detectives got their start by reading “Sherlock Holmes”? How many of those would-be detectives got their start “detecting” in the Wild West? This western has cow-pokes, cow pies, catallo (yep, a buffalo cow mix), and English nobility - throw in not one, but two deaths and you’ve got yourself a Holmes worthy mystery. The main characters, Old Red and Big Red are what you’d expect from a pair of brothers - cantankerous and loveable. This is the first of six in the series...I’m sure I’ll be spending a lot more time in the old west in the near future.

“The Bette Davis Club”

 

ROAD TRIP!! The runaway bride. The 50K. Dad’s red 1955 MG. Malibu. Palm Springs. Chicago. New York. The abandoned groom. Architectural salvage. Dollhouses. Screenplays. Alcoholism. Insight. Happiness. This was a great story, with enough twists and turns to keep me reading late into the night. 

“Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead”

Halfway through this novel, if you had asked me how it was going, I would’ve said I think there was something lost in translation. Translated from Polish, the storyline dragged. Page after page of detailed Astrology jargon. A main character that was most certainly “unhinged.” Animals in the forest taking revenge on hunters? Enough! Or so I thought...

You know when you see a video clip, and they tell you to watch until the end...READ UNTIL THE END!!! Whoa, didn’t see that coming.

“Emma”

It was time to read a classic, and author Jane Austen has long been a favorite. However, it has been a long time since I’ve read any of Austen’s books...and I forgot how tedious her writing style can be. According to my daughter-in-law; “Austen can be wordy.” That’s an understatement but, I soldiered on. I enjoyed visiting the English countryside where polite society walked or rode in carriages to pay a visit to friends. I loved that their homes had names; Hartfield, Randalls, and Donwell. I was totally confused by all the surnames - Mr. Elton, Miss Woodhouse, Miss Smith, and Mr. and Mrs. Weston - especially when there were two brothers, both Mr Knightly. Love and courtship in Austen’s time was a mind numbing dance of suited partners sharing societal station and wealth. But, perhaps the biggest mystery of the novel: DO NONE OF THESE PEOPLE WORK? As happy endings go, the novel ended well. I do, however, wish that Austen had included an epilogue to let us know if Emma was still happy with her choice of mate ten years down the road. 

“You Can’t Iron a Wrinkled Birthday Suit”

 

The title grabbed my attention. The first chapter promised a geriatric romp, in a small southern town, amongst three close friends and their pets. But, Phennah’s novel lost me when those pets started having conversations. Who knew cats could type? Huh? An alleged sexual assault of a minor was dropped in the middle of the novel. Why? The resolution of the court trial was disappointing. If there was a “glimmer” it was the three friends supporting one another, with a lot of pastries, as they tackled the difficulties of aging. I wish Phennah had developed the character, Irene, who owned a sex shop (she seemed interesting). Oh well, better luck choosing my next read.