Her photos on the site are stellar, very inspiring but also nerve-wracking. I drew October 1, 2009. Of course, the day started out gray and overcast. A fresh dusting of snow held promise but the clouds just wouldn’t break. I got some photos of windsocks ironed flat by the gusts, highway signs blown sideways, and some shots of Chaco at the Firehall.
Finally settled on this one below Carter’s Bridge.
Getting a decent hair cut is nearly impossible in a small town. I’ve given (NAME REDACTED) Salon two chances now.
My first visit resulted in “The Vulcan.”
But time heals all wounds (and all bad haircuts). I decided to give them another go. How could it be any worse?
Let’s just say that I’m now sporting a haircut that I’ve come to refer to as “The Rancher’s Wife.” Nothing wrong with being a rancher’s wife, except of course that I’m neither.