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SheddingApril 25, 2006 Not only is it Yellow Season, it's Shedding Season. Horsehair in the mouth, horsehair in the sink, horsehair on the bathroom floor . . . (Both sink and floor are miles away from the horse.) There's a horse vacuum at the barn. I rarely use it -- grooming Allie is a key part of my daily workout, and I've got that noted for when the Risky Behavior Reduction people show up -- but it's extremely handy for getting horsehair off my fleece vest. This afternoon I went up to Hair Solutions in West Tisbury to get my own hair trimmed. In the three or four minutes that Kristen was attending to another client, I picked up a copy of Self magazine. Intrigued by the cover teaser "Say Yes to Sex -- Even When You're Tired or Cranky," I started flipping through the pages. What I really wanted to know was whether Self recommended saying Yes to Sex on general principle or only when your significant other was picking up the tab for rent, mortgage, and/or groceries. Slowed down by ads for fascinating products I wouldn't know how to use even if I bought them, I only got as far as the editor's note by the time Kristen was ready for my hair. The editor noted that, as all Self readers knew, it was "hair-reduction season." Hair reduction, it seems, is crucial if one intends to sport a bikini on the beach. I have never, ever intended to sport a bikini on the beach. My personal quest for hair reduction had more to do with the fact that the curly locks were getting a little weedy, and with warm weather they're less often suppressed, disguised, or hidden by my brown Greek fisherman's cap. But hair-reduction season it is. Bikinis have nothing to do with it. I don't know if it has anything to do with "Say Yes to Sex."
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