A hair raiser
Recently I was at Lombardo’s in Randolph to see a show with the Cape Ann Travelers. I was dressed in my Sunday best, standing in line at the ladies room, when a stranger tapped my shoulder and asked if I had a hair pick. I pulled one from my purse and gave it to her. She asked me to turn around, then fluffed up my hairdo, which had flattened from the motor-coach ride. She wasn’t a hairdresser; it was simply the kindness of a stranger.
Aiming to Peas Years ago, I asked our son what he wanted to be when he grew up. “A green pea,” came his reply. Puzzled, I wondered what that was exactly. “Oh, they live in Boston and do stuff,” he said. Such as? In all seriousness, he answered, “Well, they go out on the ocean and save whales and blow up tuna boats and things like that.” Greenpeace? “Yeah, green peas. That’s what I want to be.”
Barbara Farrell / Holyoke