‘Before Midnight’, Hair and Wimbledon

Re-read David Lodge’s novel ‘Therapy‘ recently…it’s so funny and poignant and honest and humane. I enjoyed ‘Therapy‘ so much I’ve decided to re-read his campus novel ‘Changing Places‘. It’s such a hoot  and, as you may know, describes the contrasts between university life in Rummidge (similar to Birmingham in England) and Plotinus (similar to Berkeley in California). Wow are they different! (I lived in California myself for some years.)

Hope to get to the cinema to see ‘Before Midnight’ soon. It is part of a series and I adored ‘Before Sunrise’ and its sequel ‘Before Sunset’. Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy star in the three films and Richard Linklater is the director. They are not to everyone’s taste…no car chases and lots of intimate and beautifully honest conversations. To some they may seem boring (I know because one fellow told me he was so bored by ‘Before Sunset’). To many others, though, they are true treasures and a solace.

I got my hair done the other day by a trainee hairdresser. She did a great job though it took about two and a quarter hours. I had ‘Therapy’ with me so I enjoyed reading that…and I was given two cups of tea. Her teacher is a very good hairdresser. Listening to his instructions re cutting the hair at a certain angle and in sections and fringe thinning etc gave me a renewed respect for the craft.

There is an important hair appointment in my novel ‘Ready Or Not?’

Just a wee sample:

‘The longer Ava sat waiting for Roderick, the more she felt like she was preparing for a getaway. In the many mirrors she watched him moving, swivel hipped, amongst his clientele, grabbing at the scissors in his back pocket like someone is a western. He made odd, jerky movements while cutting, stood back to gain perspective, lifted a handful of hair and seemed about to cut it, but instead let it drop, as though following some inner motivation. Despite herself, Ava became fascinated. He was an ordinary-looking fellow, apart from the ponytail. Though he seemed to be in his twenties, his face was broad and boyish; he was wearing a loose cotton shirt that was not tucked in, and everything about this clothing was casual. But he wasn’t a casual person; that was obvious. He was a man with a mission, and it was hair – her hair; for he was at last coming over to her.’

Wimbledon is starting tomorrow, Yippee! When I was a kid it was the time of year to find an old racquet and hit a tennis ball (if I could find one) against a largish wall. We lived in a big old rectory in the countryside. My Dad once took me to a big tennis gathering in Dublin. Wow, was it exciting to see famous folk whacking balls across the net…there was ice cream too…a grand day out.

I lived near the famous Wimbledon courts many years ago….even once got to visit Centre Court with a friend. It was evening and we bought some ‘handed back’ tickets.

Used to love watching the matches on the family’s first tv…black and white of course…but still so very special.

Warm wishes,

Grace x

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