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Hair, hair, everywhere.

There comes a certain point when the length of my hair becomes an annoyance. It gets stuck when I roll up car windows, takes forever to dry, and one long hair in dinner is enough to make anyone lose their appetite. So, it becomes time to cut it all off and donate it to someone else who won’t mind long hair.

I should have braided their hair together when they weren’t getting along.

Since this isn’t my first time donating, the girls knew what that meant. I’d go to the salon and come back a changed woman. Feeling compassionate for other women and children who, for one reason or another, had lost their hair, my girls decided it was time they make the mature decision to give away their beautiful hair, too.


We made an appointment before school and spent the morning at a nice salon, taking turns laughing as we got our hair lopped off.


To say that it made my girls all look older was a huge understatement. It’s like they’re all grown up young women, in part because their cuts made them look more mature but also because they were all beaming at their accomplishment. It’s not every day that they get to make such a grand sacrifice for someone else.


As a side benefit, shorter hair means less time styling and brushing and fixing it, so they’ll be able to get themselves ready for school without crying about brushing their tangled hair. Win!

Jack has dubbed this the Cleopatra look.

 We’re back to short and are enjoying our personal reinventions.

Hair will grow back and when it does, we’ll be ready for another donation. Until then, we’re back to short!

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Welcome to the farm!

True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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