Eyebrow raised in salute.

Roughly twice a year I get my hair cut and coiffed by a lovely woman, a business person who owns her own salon.

She listens to what I want, makes suggestions and prunes my hair so I can style it with my fingers. Since it can be gnarly, as well as curling and flipping in odd directions. it's a demonstration of her skills that the cut grows out nicely and requires no daily fussing.

This time she convinced me that my (also gnarly) eyebrows would benefit from a judicious weeding. This involved the application of warm wax around the imaginary perimeter of a normal eyebrow line, the firm pressing of a small cloth, and many merciless yanks.

After the swelling subsided - about 24 hours later - I observed the results. Who knew that brows, much like the berms along rivers, need something to anchor them? The removal of those sparse, wandering wisps precipitated un glissement de terrain.

The upside is that one of my eyebrows is quite mobile and often emphasizes what I'm thinking and saying. So now when I raise that brow, it is a perfectly defined, expressive arch instead of a fuzzy caterpillar wriggling between my forehead and my eye.

This calls for such salute. Is it my imagination or is Ezrant's apology a wee bit ... grudgy?