In which I want man hair...

I'm seriously considering chopping all my hair off.  I'm so sick of having to deal with grooming it every day.  The feline equivalent of my hair is probably a persian crossed with a stray - long, mangy, with a tendency to mat and cause hairballs.  Most days I toss it up in a messy bun and try and pretend it's not there.  The only time I comb it is after it has been washed because otherwise I end up with uncontrollable halo of frizz around my face.  Perhaps cutting it all off, man-style will only exacerbate these issues, or maybe it will free me from my bad hair rut.  I guess I can't be sure until I try it.  My husband bluntly pointed out that he thought I had a strange shaped head which he felt would be accentuated by having short hair (he is nothing if not honest!).  Frankly I'm not sure that I care… for ninety percent of the day I can't see myself anyway.  Thoughts anyone?  Is cutting my hair a stroke of brilliance or a brief moment of temporary insanity?

Today's photos are of my precious niece Lilly.  I've been wanting to have a photo shoot with her for ages now but somehow haven't been able to arrange it (maybe the fact that we live an hour and a half away may have something to do with it).  This wasn't exactly the photo shoot I was hoping for - more like lying around on an old nappy in the middle of a wild 6-year old birthday party - but I'll take what I can get.  Lilly is pretty dang cute so I don't think the photos suffered too much from the lack of planning.

More about the wild party and a look at Minty's new 'twirly-whirly-girly skirt' tomorrow - stay tuned...