I apologize for the delay in the last few posts...the insidiousness of Internet Explorer 9 stymied my efforts to effectively share flowing beards with the masses (of twelve people, as that is my current follower contingent.)
Now that the hairs around my mouth have begun to extend past their usual twining territory territory I find them grappling with my lips when I awaken each morning. Imagine flexible fish hooks tugging at the corners of your mouth as you try to squeeze a few minutes past the first snooze. As my father would say, "I have little sympathy," and I am sure you feel the same way. My goal is only to relate the experience to you.
Taking the distant view of the growth this week caused many people to wonder why I was dyeing my beard; so let's get this straight: I have attempted to dye my beard in the past (on a bet for the Camp at which I work in the Summer) but that was blonde, and it didn't take. In fact, the dye so ravaged my chin that I was unable to shave for a few weeks after that. Perhaps these early rumblings brought on thoughts of extended bearding adventures...?
But rest assured this growth is all mine, as is its color--attribute it to my combination of Nordic and Scottish roots. I like to imagine Leif Ericson charging down from the Scottish Highlands wearing a kilt and a Viking helmet. If only, if only.
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