I finally - FINALLY - had a haircut this morning.
I was in need of one at the time when lockdown commenced at the beginning of March, and things, not surprisingly, have gone from bad to worse.
I went through the badly thatched cottage phase some weeks ago and had become perilously close to bearing a horrible resemblance to Peter Stringfellow.
I had considered various courses of action during the interregnum, including the 'all off look', a pony tail and even, horror upon horror, a man bun.
I mentioned the latter option to a neighbour who said she wouldn't speak to me if I did that.
Anyway, I left behind enough hair (in a rather fetching shade of grey since you ask) to stuff a settee.
Chillingly, I also had to leave contact details which is only to have been expected in the current situation, but on balance I am HAPPY!