The day my haircut got out of control!

As regular Blog Readers will know, I hardly ever feature in the blog myself, and have never devoted an entire blog to myself. But this post is different. And justifiably so.

Today started out pretty much as any other. Two of the girls were home, and so I had the pleasure of playing a few games of squash with Dayna (which foolishness I shall surely regret first thing tomorrow morning) and then we got the camera out and started taking photos of the puppies (of which more to follow in another blog). Then I decided I could do with a more up-to-date photo for my Facebook profile, so Courtney helped me take some pics.

Everything was going fine to start with, and the matter would have ended there as I was quite pleased with the pics she took. . . .

What a handsome devil I am?

However, when she focused in for a tighter angle, we made the astonishing discovery that while my beard has the distinguished 'salt 'n pepper' look achieved only after 50 years of honest living, my mustache - quite unexpectedly, is ginger when expose to the sun. Quite where that came from, I have no idea. As far as I am aware, the only family member with ginger hair was my cat Petty Cash (I got her when she was a little kitty, hence her name) and I very much doubt I have some of her genes floating around inside me.

Ginger? Well I never.

So the decision was made - the goatee must go. Out came the clippers.

Unfortunately . . . . in mid-trim, we experienced yet another of the famous Harare power-cuts (or power-outs for you Americans out there) and my trusty little electric trimmer ground to a halt. This meant that I had to hide in my bedroom for quite some time as I didn't feel I could present myself in public . . .

However, the tragedy with the power gave us pause for thought, and so once the power was restored, we proceeded with the haircut a bit slower than would normally have been the case. And, of course, we had a little fun along the way . . .

Eat your heart out, Tom Selleck! Magnum P.I. has a new face.

Dare I say - improved, new face?

So having discovered the fun to be had with a little judicious trimming - well, there was no stopping us. And this is where we made the somewhat startling discovery that looks can indeed be deceiving.

Startling indeed.

Be prepared to be blown away . . . . .

The next picture is a little blurred, but conveys a little more of the new 'look' currently prevailing chez-Simon

So I think by now, you may have guessed, but here is a clearer picture for you. The person who first writes to me and identifies who I look like will win themselves one night's free accommodation in our flat in Harare. Replies at the bottom of this blog. I look forward to hearing from you!

So - the final picture, and your chance to become a true winner. Complete with a 'Death's Head silver-plated cobra', and a brand new hairstyle!

My wife, of course, is delighted with this new look, and so it shall remain for a while.

I, on the other hand, am not so sure, and have a feeling that things were better before I got the trimmer out?

Have a great day!