When I was a girl, I dreamed of shooting the curl. But alas I never learned to surf.

As a child my mother wanted me to have curly hair. She or my aunt gave me perms. Ugh! I hated it! And it took forever to grow out. It wasn’t so much curly as frizzy.

In sixth grade I had a thing for Shirley Temple. I used those pink sponge rollers, or mom would use rags to curl my hair into those ringlets. I loved Ms. Temples songs, shows, and dances.

From Curly Top

My teen years found me using coke, orange juice, or coffee cans as rollers as Cher straight hair was in. I couldn’t find pics, sorry.

A week after high school graduation I started cosmetology classes at the city college. We didn’t learn to use the hot roller. Or blow dryer. Or French braids. We learned pin curls, and finger waves. And pivot rollers. But I loved working with hair and meeting the nice ladies. Long hair was my favorite. Especially wedding looks. But, ugh, long days standing in one place had me in tears every night.
Yes. That’s my new goal. I’m not even curling those. I’m still on the purple ones that look like elongated hair curlers
A Milo pic. Just because. He curls up next to me at night. But stretches out on the cool floor in the heat of dog days.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “curl.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!