I bought a mini rake for my 13 month old son. It cost me $1.30.
It’s bright green and yellow and it towers over him.

I bought it on Friday, imagining that we’d spend the weekend raking up leaves together in the warm winter sunshine.

But no. For five days I haven’t been able to pry it away from his little fingers. The rake goes everywhere he goes.
It joins us for dinner. It watches the 7pm news with us.
It follows us to the shops and back. It baths with him.
Plays with him. And it sleeps with him.

Mr Rake also has an attitude problem. Not to mention that he can only wear one shoe at a time, hates eating peas and prefers to stand upright when watching tv.

Then again, thank god he didn’t develop the same obsession for say, our wheelbarrow.

I have been looking for a decent male hairdresser for years.

Particularly one who would squeal with delight as he runs his fingers through my hair. One who would scold me for using cheap and nasty shampoos. One who would be inspired by the colours on my face and the changing season outside to make love to my hair and tame the wild beast that it is.

But I have found not one. They all curse under their breaths.
They smile and say, My don’t you have thick hair!

Gee, my scissors will go blunt after I’ve finished with you!

Wow, I’ve never cut hair so thick before!

Would you like me to thin your hair out?

I just want a trim goddamnit. Why must I always walk out of a salon a victim of sneaky evil hairdresser tricks that melt away the moment I get wet?

So for my birthday I went to a tiny hair salon. The sign said “Specialises in Asian hair”.

He pranced out and the first thing I noticed were the tiger stripes painted on his finger nails. He was lovely.
And he did a pretty good job.

He didn’t handle my hair like straw.
He didn’t grimace as his scissors crunched through my hair.
He gave me some good advice for keeping my long, thick, black hair healthy and shiny.

And he swore I shouldn’t bother with a straightening perm – I should just invest in a good ceramic hair iron. Damn. There goes my hope of a quick-fix solution. I mean, who on earth has time to straighten their hair every morning??

So. Much. Rain. It’s unbelievable. Apparently it hasn’t rained like this in Perth since the 1980’s. That is, constant rainy days for weeks on end.

My washing takes 3 days to dry out in our living room. We have a flooded backyard which looks like a beautiful meadowy lake. I discovered that my favourite shoes leak. And a hole in our laundry roof is making puddles on the tiles.
Despite all that, my plants look happy. And I’m sure all the farmers are over the moon.

I’m 26 today! Woohoo.
Big smooch to all you lovely, generous people.
Thanks for all the presents, flowers and emails.
Aww, I feel all warm and fuzzy and loved.

My weekend consisted of —
A very expensive haircut. Heh.
A little cuddle from Callum.
A big cuddle from Andrew.
A slice of peacan danish.
Afternoon tea with the family.
Lebanese dinner at a friend’s place.
And supper in Northbridge.

I hope you all had a great weekend too!