Does it still qualify as "self-mutilation" for a woman to buzz her hair? Especially a woman who has the kind of hair millions of people would die for? It was a nearly unanimous, "Yes" in 1995 when I let head lice infested children buzz my head for the first time to help them lose their fear of it. Buzzing hair remains the most efficient way to arrest a head lice infestation and I had allot of infested children that summer. The sensation of it was instantly addicting for me. I never dreamed there were so many nerve endings in my scalp! Stop a hot flash with a damp rag? Sign me up. Take the sweat out of menopause. The last time I buzzed my head was 2012. I been a good girl ever since. Until today. My head feels 5 pounds lighter without the waist length baggage.

I have been off playing Old Mother in the middle-aged off-spring dramas. Family drama for one. Bachelor break-up drama for the other. Youngest Son (32) has a wife in the hospital and 2 children (2 and 3 months) with a mother out of commission. The children started out camping here at the homestead until Eldest Son (36) started raging while the grow/hypodronics renovation developed unexpected complications. The children and I abandoned ship to stay at Mama's house. I took a media fast while I was there.

Over the course of all that fun, my excessively thick hair developed a huge dread knot at the base of my neck. It does that, sometimes. It was a choice between going Rastafarian and facing an extremely painful comb-out. . . Or. . . Buzzzzzzzzzzz. . .

The first day of a fresh buzz is an awesome sensory experience. For at least this little while, I am too busy noticing the outside of my head to get lost in the inside of it. Good thing, cause the inside of my head sure is noisy today. Going for whatever relief I can find, however temporary. I hate minding other adult people's business, even if they do call me, "Mom."

Just an update. . .