May is merry, isn’t it?

Of course it is, sort of. Why there is May Day and the dance around the May Day Pole and well, graduations, weddings, vacations and lots of good stuff in May.

Then there is the poem, written in 1599 by Englishman, Thomas Dekker. (The first verse)

O, the month of May, the merry month of May,

So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green!

O, and then did I unto my true love say,

Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my Summer’s Queen.

So yes, the month of May is festive, with pleasant weather – a time for picnics, family reunions and as well a time for working the garden and mowing the lawn. It is a time for cleanup, gathering the sticks and rubble from winter – a new beginning.

And as the poem states, “so green, so green, so green,” but I didn’t expect green on my head!

You see during this merry month of May, I decided to become my own hair stylist. Because my right hand gal, my trusty, almost magical stylist, whom has even been the subject of my creative writing efforts: poems, essays and maybe even a movie. Yes, Betty had upped and skedaddled to Louisiana. What was I to do?

She has seen me through so many crisis’s, almost like a bartender (without the booze) – we could talk-the-talk and solve world problems, most especially, my many hair dilemmas which I have experienced over the years. But now she was gone and yes, I am happy, really happy for her, yet I’m left with a mess on my head.

I considered my options: wigs, never-ever-again leaving my house or maybe even Hubs, but none seemed to fit, especially Hubs and his hair-styling skills. Many years ago I did ask him to pull my hair through a cap using a frosting kit. I still have holes in my scalp and he seemed to enjoy it too much. No, it would not be Hubs.

I drove the streets, as I looked and searched for a stylist. You would think it shouldn’t be so hard. I suppose I was nervous, creeping out into an unknown world. I had depended on the same smiling face for so many years.

One Saturday afternoon, I did find a sweet lady who gave me a fantastic haircut, but I required color, immediately. You see I needed to go grocery shopping. We were down to water and pretzels. And well, I had skipped church for two Sundays in a row, not like me. Lordy, my church friends were making calls to Anderson’s and Barham’s. Where is Anne? Thankfully, I was just hiding out in my house and didn’t need the services of Anderson’s Hospital or Barham’s Funeral Home, not yet, anyway.

So I made a plan. Early on Monday morning, just as the upper edge of the sun appeared in the east, I drove to Walmart and as I had hoped, the parking lot was almost empty. I practically slide on my belly toward the front door, as I tried to be inconspicuous, but then I thought if one is sliding along on their belly, folks might take notice, so I grabbed a buggy and walked, almost like a normal person.

I arrived to the hair color aisle. OMG, so many choices and I looked like none of the pictures on the boxes. I made a blind choice. I suppose it was a picture of a lady that I wished I could look like, maybe Sweet Peg from the poem, but it didn’t work.

Two hours later, my hair was a startling, fire engine red, with a green scheme. What the heck? We had water and pretzels for lunch while I tried to think of a way out of this redness.

That’s when I called the old familiar number, my used-to-be stylist, and learned the shop had hired a new hair dresser. Whoopee! I made an appointment within the hour and today we will have a lunch of homemade baked lasagna, with a big green salad and garlic bread. Hubs is so happy.

It has been a rough first 10 days, but this morning I can truly agree with the poet, O, the month of May, the merry month of May.

Anne McKee is a Mississippi historian, writer and storyteller. She is listed on the Mississippi Humanities Speakers Bureau and Mississippi Arts Commission’s Performing Artist and Teaching Artist Rosters. See her website: www.annemckeestoryteller.com.