Beauty Shop Saturday

(photo taken by Jimmy Emerson, https://www.flickr.com/photos/auvet/6380366565)

When I get stressed, I seem to have a need to write down memories.  I am not sure why, but it helps to think back to simpler times.  The memories seem to make the troubles and hurry-hurry mentality of today, fade away.
One of my favorite childhood memories is the Saturday morning trip to the beauty shop.  If I got the chance to spend the night at my grandparents' on a Friday night, chances were, I would get to go with Grandmama to the beauty shop on Saturday.  To my brother, I think this was torture, but to me, it was the epitome of fun.
When I got the chance to go to Mrs. Bert's beauty shop, I not only got to look at all the shiny, colorful costume jewelry she sold, I also got to look at all the beautiful clothes she had for sale.  Her shop was on the main drag in town, so it was a very narrow and deep building.  She had windows up front that were always warmed by the sun and occasionally had enough room in them for me to slip in and act like I was part of the display.  Yes, I really did that.  As you walked in the heavy swinging doors, you passed these window displays and were immediately in the midst of rack after rack of sequened clothes-it was the 80s.  These clothes were special because this was Union Springs.  We had no mall, no department stores, and no Wal-Mart.  This was one of the only places to get clothes in town and almost the only place to get nice clothes.  As you continued in to the shop, she had case after case of jewelry to the right.  There were pendants with jewels of every color.  There were necklaces, earrings, and more than i can remember.  Above these cases, Ms. Bert even had wigs.  This was the coolest thing to my young brain.
As soon as you got through the merchandise section of the store, you had reached the beauty parlor area.  Ms. Bert had 2 chairs, I think and maybe 2 dryer chairs.  This is where the action happened.  If you have ever watched the southern classic Steel Magnolias, you have a very good idea of the feel here.  My Grandmama didn't just get her hair done, she talked and visited and shared her life with Ms. Bert for a couple of hours every week.  She would get her hair washed and set and dried each Saturday.  As I roamed the store while all of that was happening, I heard countless stories from past and present.  I learned about life through their eyes.  They were not perfect people, but what can you really learn from "perfect" people?  They tend to be closed and guarded.  These people I encountered in Ms. Bert's shop were quite the opposite.  What great memories of laughing and crying and sharing.  Oh how I wish I had a "Beauty Shop" where I could go for a couple of hours on Saturday mornings, or maybe just 30 minutes. :)
 

Fiber

FIBER

"a thread or filament from which a vegetable tissue, mineral substance, or textile is formed."

The word has been echoing in my brain.  I see so many disappointments in the world.  Probably something to do with my thirty-something time in life, but I think it also has to do with my home.  My home was not perfect.  Life on a farm is hard.  Even before we had a big farm, life in the sticks was hard.  Money was almost always short.  We ate tons of deer meat-out of necessity.  We always wore hand-me-downs.  Despite being on the under-side in a lot of circumstances, we were always taught to mind our manners and respect our elders.  We were taught to put others above ourselves-others' needs.   We were taught about Agape love-the true love of Christ.  Our fiber, what we were built on, was strong.  It was tough and it was loyal.  
I look at so many life-decisions people are making and wonder, what is lacking in the fiber of their lives?  What did they miss?  Why are mundane things so life-or-death to them?  Why do they risk relationship over self-image and popularity?  Why do they see the need, the constant need, to be "applauded" by society, even Christian society?  Why?  What is missing?  These are Christ-fearing folks, even; needy sinners aware of their sin, and they still so willfully let it take dominion over their everyday decisions...their self-worth.  
I am so thankful that my fiber was woven strong and tight and out of lasting material.  I know it doesn't take living in a map dot of a community to possess this foundation, but I tend to think it was easier.  The constant struggle to maintain...the very rare presence of excess...the day-to-day reality of how temporal life really is.  In my "big city life" I live now, it is so easy to forget what matters...how simple it really is.  
My husband (a true life-long city boy) says it best, "What's more important...people or things?"  Embrace the people...let go of the things.    

Home

Home cannot be contrived.  It is not bought.  It is not sold.  Home is where your memories are.  My life is so busy.  I live a fairly fast-paced life, so far from what I grew up living.  I find myself overwhelmed more than occasionally, and then remember God has a plan for where He has me, and I better get to it!
In those times, I do think of home.  Home is family being together, cooked meals, cooking the meals together, sitting and watching the news together, reading together, being outside together, putting things together, building things, fixing things, renovating, painting, relaxing together, a warm spot in a really cold house in the winter (because it's a really old house :), heaters to warm by, big coats to go "woods walking" in, shooting just for target practice, shooting cans in the pond, camping out, and I really think the list could go on.  The funny thing is, the list goes in and out of my childhood memories and my more recent adult memories.  Home has become a mix of what I did growing up and what my kids are doing growing up.  Our home is sort of a mix of city life and Smut Eye life.  
My husband may have said it best.  "I go to your parents' and I get bored.  I go to my parents' and there's always something going on and it's crazy.  And then I think, 'Gee, I would really like somewhere in between.'  And then I realize, 'There is a place like that!  It's our house."
I love my family and where I came from and I love where we are going.