Haircuts, Organic Food, and Scary Shoes

It's not gorgeous scenery and vigorous walks all the time here on the grand NZ adventure. Some blustery days call for restocking the larder, getting a trim, and scavenging the second-hand shops.

While ambling around downtown Riverton I spied a modest salon. Haircuts! This sweet blue-haired woman decided to take Art herself and asked Clayton, in the background, if he could take me 20 minutes later. (They have their work cut out for them.) I left to browse the op-shop across the street wondering if Art would end up with a fresh dye job.

 Art has camp hair (and so do I)

Lots of organic produce here, now in our car.

Art made a picture of these terrifying shoes while Clayton and I were chatting away under his scissors. "Last haircut?" he asked, a bit peremptorily I thought. "Uh, February?" He got to work.

A bunch of stops later, it was time for a venison burger and a bowl of seafood chowder. We are, after all, on the southern coast.

I told Clayton he didn't have to give me the full Barbra blow-out, but, perhaps fearing this would be my last haircut until November, nothing could stop his diligence.