Adventures in Sheepish Confessions

My plans last night fell through, so instead of going out, I stayed in.  I sat for a while listening to the pouring rain, the croaking frogs and the chirping crickets…then I got bored listening to the rain, frogs and crickets, and I let my mind wander.  When left to its own devices, there are a few well worn paths down which it wanders.  The History Path is one of them, and that’s where we found ourselves last night.  After finding some rather ghastly information on-line regarding health care and childbirth in the 19th Century, I eventually stumbled upon a decidedly less horrific subject: how women managed to get all those curly tendrils without the use of hot irons. The secret?  Brown paper!

I just happened to have a pile of brown paper hanging around doing nothing, since I had forgiven my orchids and bought them a proper vase – wrapped in brown paper.  “Hmmmm”, I thought to myself, “maybe I could…” I hesitated though; after the disastrous results of my 1940s hairstyle reproduction attempt, I had vowed to avoid any further …ahem …entanglements. However, the rain, frogs and crickets had lulled me into a bit of a dozy trance, and I thought I could handle it.  Half an hour later, I was desperately hoping that there would be no reason to evacuate the building during the night, because I looked like this:  

 After a good night’s sleep, I pulled out the papers this morning, curious to see what was atop my noggin.  I tried coaxing the curls into a passable Regency era coiffure, but the result would have mortified Jane Austen, and I won’t even post the picture here it was so bad. Once I shook out the historical horror though, the curls actually weren’t so bad.  While the experiment failed miserably as an 1810 ‘do, it was passable as a 2010 one:

 There you have it…I sheepishly confess that this is what I do when left to my own devices for an evening. 

5 thoughts on “Adventures in Sheepish Confessions

  1. Pingback: Adventures in Grocery Guesses | Adventures in My Shoes

  2. Pingback: Adventures in the Eaton’s Catalogue | Adventures in My Shoes

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