Purple

The specs on this: Manic Panic, the lighter colour is Fuscia Shock, I used that on my dark roots because this colour lasts and holds its vibrancy longer than regular purple. The darker purple is Purple Haze, vegan MP. I applied, then used the hot blower dryer to set it. I braided up the length and wrapped my head with a headscarf over night. In the morning, I hot air blow dried it again to get the braid all the way dry. Then I rinsed and rinsed with cold water until the water ran clear. Towel and blow dry again. Now I have to be careful about shampoo and using products, even leave in conditioner, because each soap application will take some colour with it. Cool water rinses are ok. This is how I keep my colour really vibrant for longer.

Now, why my 36 year old, work at home, rural Iowa farmer self dyes my hair purple?

Because I love it. I love the way I look with purple. Some women like blonde or red or dye a darker brown, but I LOVE purple. What is not to love, look at the colour! This is the colour I had on my wedding day. This is the colour I wore in my hair when I used to perform on stage at a local coffee house. Why not put this back on reawakening my inner artist?



This. This is who I am.

Let me say this though, it isn't easy. Last Spring as I was dropping off my five year old at ballet, a minivan pulled up in front of the studio, loaded up two ballerinas, and then was waiting in line to depart the parking lot when I heard.....Daddy! That's Holly's mom, she's not a WHORE! She's nice!

Excuse me? What on earth?

Purple hair trumps that I am a mother of three, college professor, farmer, and married for 15 years to my high school sweetheart. Purple hair means that I am a sex worker? AND that a father of little girls gets to call me that in front of his children and in earshot of everyone waiting at ballet class? *I was in a long sleeve high neck sweater and a long skirt with boots, lest any of you think that my appearance other than purple hair warranted such a comment.

Way to stand up for me little girl. I hope that spunk and truth in you stays strong and being raised by a person like that doesn't damage you. No worries though, I got this. I own my purple hair and some random dude calling names only startles me, it no longer hurts me or changes my self value. May you be blessed with such fire of spirit.

I also get followed at retail stores. I get rude remarks from middle aged women. I sometimes have to remind folks in authority that I am an artist, college professor, and educated. I am not invisible, but purple hair certainly sends a message to others of many negative social codings. If I was someone trying to navigate social or economic tides, I would have a disadvantage. When I worked a minimum wage job, I was threatened with being fired. I called the corporate office and it was never mentioned again, though my hours were shifted. It didn't matter to me, but to many it would have been horrible. I know this. I dye my hair anyway because I can. If I can and do more people will start to see me and see that hair and other appearance markers do not tell the character of a person. I also have the safety of being able to change this about my look, back to something natural.

I can only feel the tinglings of what it must hurt like to be treated as dirt for something unchangeable.

So, know me. Know that I am not what you think. I am a brave mother, a farmer, a women with a voice, a writer, a really good and loyal friend, I do not play dirty ever, and I love so fiercely that it hurts. I am purple.

And just for the record, none of the sex industry workers I have known ever had purple hair but they certainly have more class than the dad in the minivan at ballet class. Just saying.

So Long Rosie, May You Graze Greener Pastures, Always

 

 

"Final update on Rosie (our Brown Swiss) for those who were asking about her. As of last week she had been down for 30+ days. She was still eating, but had just begun to show signs of getting worse instead of better. I put her down on Monday afternoon - it was quick and painless.

Her behavior leading up to this week and what I could tell from examining her seemed to indicate there was an injury of some sort to one of her hind legs. She did not seem to be in any pain, but she had full movement of only three of her legs. If we'd been able to identify that sooner we might have done something different, but I don't know what that might have been.

The girls said a prayer for her and we thanked her for what she provided us. We will take what we've learned from this and continue.

If folks have specific questions about what was done / how you can PM me and I'll share. I don't want to go into it in detail here, but if our experience can be of help to someone then as always we're willing to share information and answer questions. " -Chad from our farmpage on facebook.

Chad went out to check on the animals and Poppy, our lead ewe, was grieving. She refused grain, would not come out to eat hay. She is sad, Chad thinks a little afraid too. We double checked her for illness or injury and she's healthy and strong. Just sad.

Rosie never really liked me, would often pin me against posts in the pasture. Not an aggressive pinning, just a you shouldn't stand there silly girl, see? I loved her though, and I wanted to milk her and make cheeses from her sweet cream always. She was a good mother, easily birthing and nursing. She was kind to the sheep and the children. She loved to have her nose and forehead scratched.

Rosie. Thank you for the gifts you gave us, the farmer's you made us. Thank you for your milk, your calves, your motherhood. Our fields are emptier without you and your friends are grieving. We will  take care of them, I miss you too.

May you rest in greener pastures, always.

This Week Has Been Hard

This week has been hard. Rosie our family cow had to be put down after a long 30 days of trying to nurture her back to health, Chad got sick after being gone for two days hunting, and school started in earnest for DMACC which means I spent my days answering emails and getting students settled in to classes and redirect textbook searches.

Tired. So today I took the kids to the Science Centre, only it was closed.

There were tears.

We ended up down the street at the free Historical Museum.

The docent at the welcome desk remembered us. Last time we visited Isaac was not yet walking! That was what, 4 months ago? How time flies. How grateful we are for his daily progress! He started running, actually running!

Holly was still sad though, and not much we did helped. Lily and Isaac danced for her and sang songs and nothing helped. She went to bed early too. Poor, sweet Holly.

As for me, my grief is harder to deal with. I'll pick up writing in a few days I am sure.

Sunset Chores With Sweet Silly Helper and a Photobombing Orange Mitten....