Here is my hair brush in all its glory with a bit too much of my hair in it. I am terrible with hair brushes and only replace them when they loose all their bristles. I bought this one once when staying with my brother and having forgotten my usual brush. It was a cheap one from the local supermarket. I took it back out to Tanzania with us where the plastic handle broke. Peter replaced it with one he made out of the local wood. It is now affectionately known as my lethal weapon as the handle is so very solid.
I was just reading through comments on other blogs for today's word and remembered a very treasured possession which fits today's word perfectly. So am adding this little bit.
Peter has had chemotherapy twice now and both times before his hair fell out I took a curl and put it in a pot to keep. Here they are.
Alison, a very nostalgic photo of Peter's hair xx
ReplyDeleteWhite hair - they mean experienced during pleasures.
ReplyDeleteRemember those pleasures!
/I think you are very brave woman. I thought about my comb and hair on it. But I had no the courage to show it./
That is a poingnant memory for you. such lovely curls.
ReplyDeleteIt's a beautiful memory as you still can hold on to your Peter. xxx
ReplyDeleteWhat an emotional photo that is. xxx
ReplyDelete