Hair Issues-I need your help

Dear Darling Readers,
I am about to be vulnerable and show you something I would rather not show you. In an effort to keep it real, however, I come to you begging for mercy. I need your help.
You see, I am a low-maintenance hair owner. I cut my hair once a year-maybe less. I hardly ever use a blow dryer.
But this is what I’m dealing with as I look through photos of me on a drizzly morning in San Diego.

This is embarrassing.

 

It’s like my hair has a mind of its own. What is going on here to make it frizzle, frazzle and bedazzle?

 

Apparently, it doesn’t bother me too much. But then again, I am unaware of just what Bicep’s sees through the camera lens.
Please help, dear readers. What do I do about this frazzle problem? I need you. Don’t fail me now.
Love-Rebekah

This Kansas Girl Loves Her Sunflowers

Growing up in the ‘Land of Ah’s’, you fall in love with the site of an entire field propagating the majestic sunflower.
Our backyard ended in a field, which happened to be full of the bright yellow flowers.

I would sit for hours watching bees come and go from the flower’s gigantic brown center.

The Sunflower tells me that I’m home, that I’m safe, that life is simple.
That just maybe, I’ll walk into my childhood kitchen and Mom will be making spaghetti, which is her favorite meal, with green beans and garlic toast.

A single Sunflower is enough to brighten a room-plus they last forever. I like to group together three or more-that is, when I decide to part with my hard earned cash to have pretties in my house.

There’s something about the Sunflower that is both delicate and rustic that I relate to in a very personal way.

I think if I ever become famous and people want to know what flowers that I would like in my hoity toity hotel room, the sunflower would be in my top five. Maybe even my top three.

The Sunflower tells me that summer is winding down, that fall is upon me-bringing with it cooler weather, the need for coffee, a good book and a scarf.

I love that I have Sunflowers right now in my dining room even though I live in Oklahoma now, and not Kansas.

But, I bet they came from Kansas, so that’s good enough.

Vintage Paint by Numbers

Many times when Biceps and I are out on tour, milling about in some thrift store, I see them. They call to me.
They tell me they need a home, that they are sweet and colorful and lonely.
But, like my retro refrigerator dishes, I have been banned from buying anymore Paint by Numbers.

So my obsession currently stops with these below.

This was my first paint by numbers. My virgin purchase, if you will. I fell in love with this forlorn puppy, and for $12 it was mine.

He resides in our guest bedroom, and if you ever visit, he will watch over all of your goodies and not let Cowboy sit on them.

I bought this at what was advertised as an ‘Estate Sale’.
‘Estate’ it was not. The house was weird, stinky and had an entire notebook filled with the lives and deaths of numerous bunny rabbits the owner apparently kept.

I disinfected Jesus properly as soon as I got home.

Grandma Greiman painted the next three you will feast your eyes upon.
This one was never framed or displayed in her home. I am excited to exhibit it in my home as soon as I can convince Biceps it fits into our decor.

Notice Grandma’s take on the colors on this painting versus the one above I bought at stinky rabbit house?
We recently found out that Grandma is color blind. How cute is that? She has never known this all these years!

This paint by numbers, I believe, is the creme de la creme. I slept many a night under the watchful eye of Jesus at the farmhouse in Iowa. This was my one request when she decided to move to town.

I needed Jesus. And Jesus was given to me.
Isn’t that just typical of Him?