Jack and I have a young friend, Blair, who went on Jack’s trip to Scotland this time a year ago with her family. Blair made history by being the only participant to ever take up the tour’s opportunity to shear a sheep.
Jack only takes ten people on the tour, and while they visit internationally known sites, they also get Jack’s home turf advantage and visit a few secret pubs, living room singing sessions, and a working farm, where opportunities abound to do non-touristy things. Like what Blair did with the sheep.
(FYI, while the ewes don’t like the clipper noise, it doesn’t hurt AND it keeps them from getting nasty diseases like heatstroke and fly strike. So don’t believe the ewe’s drama queen pose; she’s neither suffering nor dying.)
Blair doesn’t fear dirt or hard jobs, as you can see, but until recently she and I shared a healthy respect for spiders. About 8 a.m., she posted the following as her Facebook status:
While walking under the eaves of my garage this morning, a slimy slug decided it was a good idea to plop down on top of my head. Thinking it was a giant spider trying to eat me, I quickly start swatting my hair back and forth frantically, further wrapping the slug in a nice cocoon of hair.
After my boyfriend Seth helped me pull the little booger out, we set him free, leaving me to deal with the sticky booger trail he left behind in my freshly straightened hair. And a little fun fact: It’s very hard to get snail juice out of one’s hair. I’m rocking the, “There’s Something About Mary” hairstyle today, swapping the semen with slug slime.
Moral of the story: there are far greater things to fear getting caught in your hair than spiders.
Until Blair posted this, I really wouldn’t have believed that was a true statement. But, okay, I see clearly now. Thanks, Blair! And I fully expect, given your prowess with electric shears, that you are sporting a buzz cut now.
Slug juice? Not to worry. This girl knows how to get the root of a problem.