Giveaway Winner Announcement

The winner of the Audio book “Dump Dinners Recipes” by Daniel Cook, read by Diane Davis, was won by one of  the international followers of  Tonette Joyce:Food,Friends,Family.

The writer of the very interesting, beautiful cooking/travel blog “Hotly Spiced”, Charlie Louie, is the winner.

Thanks to all who entered. Please check into “Dump Dinners Recipes” and please visit me at my other blog, here at WordPress.

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Hair Today,Gone Tomorrow

Trying to come up with original topics, I suggested we write about haircuts gone wrong, since it has probably happened to everyone.

What I didn’t consider was permanents gone wrong, which were brought up earlier in the week by Patricia Kiyono. I have a lot of hair, but it is fine and without any body of its own, none whatsoever. In the 70s-80s I did the perm-thing and, well, suffice it to say that after one particularly bad disaster, my brother-in-law’s brother refused to be seen in public with me. Really.Whereas before he was keen on me, he refused go pick something up with me for our siblings, all because of my hair.

I’ve had relatives and friends cut my hair with only one problem, one time, but I’ve had an inordinate professional disasters. Once I went back and even the owner/manager couldn’t fix what the cutter had done to me; my money back did not help. I’ve had ‘stylists’ who simply would not listen to what I wanted. I have only had one professional cut that truly was professional and what I needed, if not exactly what I had pictured.

A couple of the times I had hand surgery and asked for something I could maintain with one hand. As the ‘stylists’ were “styling” me with round brushes and blow driers going, I pointed out that I would not be able to do that. Even so, more than once the person with the brushes and drier continued to babble on about how to give it lift and defussion, etc., none of which was possible to do one-handed. I looked pretty limp until it grew out each time.

Another time I went to a well-respected, pricey stylist who would not advise me, who only trimmed me and sold an expensive hair product to me. I had my business and needed to look neat and have something that would hold together. I wasn’t happy with the outcome. A customer came in soon afterward who was about my age, with my coloring and the greatest hair, a style I figured I could use. I asked her who did her hair. I guess I don’t have to tell you that it was the stylist I just spent too much money on for next to nothing.

I decided that I needed to cut my own out of necessity,(so I didn’t end up in jail for using the cutters’ own scissors against them). But I had learned to cut hair for my husband.

Soon after we got married, my husband handed me scissors and told me to cut his hair. I had never cut hair, except to trim my own bangs. True, we were on an extremely tight budget, but I had no idea what I was doing. All I could do was round it off in the back and it was pretty good, (for what it was),but I was nervous and worried and voiced it. He kept telling me about how his mother cut all the kids’ hair, (she had 15 to practice on), so when I got to trim around his ear and he mentioned his mother one too many times, his ear got nicked! It was an accident, but I think maybe subconsciously…

Anyway, we took a trip to my family soon afterward and I had my mother show me what to do. I’ve taken my husband to the barber a few times but he has never been happy, so I always do his hair…(besides, there is less and less of it to worry about every year). I cut our sons’ hair until they hit high school and no one was any the wiser, but by then they felt that it was time to get the cord cut as well as their hair.

The one time I looked bad from a non-‘professional’ cut was when I had been quite ill as a child and had my hair cut short for the first time in my life. I was 10 or 11 and my sister, who is somewhat older, decided that I needed to look more ‘in’. It was the time of the British Invasion and the style had hair tapered from the bangs down the sides. My sister, being my sister, insisted on doing this while she was on the phone with her boyfriend. She wouldn’t ask him to call back, so she put the phone on her shoulder and cut my hair…need I tell you how crooked it ended up?

The BF was a drummer; she had a thing for drummers back then, but that relationship didn’t last long. Fast forward fifty (!) years after they met: she recently got back in touch with him. She told me all about his life and how he is now a retired archaeologist and they have been communicating. I said, “It’s nice that you talk to him, but you are not going anywhere near my hair!”

It seems we all had more to say on hair disasters this week than I anticipated. There are a lot of people who seem to be getting licenses that don’t deserve to be let out in public with scissors, apparently.

Posted in childhood, Family, haircuts, horror stories, Looking back, Patricia Kiyono, Tonette Joyce | 8 Comments

Worst Haircuts


… and each lasted a looong time

By Jeff Salter

We’re blogging about bad hair this week. Easy topic for me because I’ve had plenty of rotten haircuts… especially as a kid when my Mom trimmed us with cheap clippers.

But before I regale you with bad haircuts, let me mention the many GOOD cuts I’ve had, and the stylists I’ve followed from shop to shop (if/when they relocated).

First, I need to mention Georgia Raymond, who cut my hair in four different shops over at least a dozen years… until I moved out of state. And locally, Tonya Smith, who’s cut my hair for about nine years… in three different shops. Stylists like Georgia and Tonya have taken the time to get to know me and my family… and to learn the idiosyncrasies of my hair. I appreciate that attention – and their friendship – and those are among the reasons I follow them loyally to whichever shop they advance to.

Basic Training

Clearly my worst haircut of all time is the buzz cut I received in Air Force Basic Training on Jan. 25, 1971 (or maybe the following morning). I no longer have a photo of my first couple of days with that cut, but suffice it to say my hair was still growing out when I reported to my first permanent duty station in early April.


No, this is actor Matt Modine (not me), but it gives you a searing image of what I looked like as a skinhead recruit.

National Chain

My other most horrid hair cut came when I visited a national chain – it may have been called Saturdays – when I was between stylists. [This was before I met Georgia.]

I took my seat along the wall in the crowded establishment – Bossier City LA – where there were some half dozen stylists cutting hair as fast as they could whap the loose hair from the chair and hustle in the next customer.

It was clearly a place aimed at customers younger than I was at the time (mid-or-late-30s). When I told the young girl I wanted a “business cut”, she seemed quite puzzled. I thought that image was perfectly clear, but evidently I needed to explain. “I part it on the right side, so the hair needs to be longer on this area because it lies over on the left side of my head.” You’d have thought I was discussing the subtleties of entropy with steam.

Anyhow, she finally acted like she understood – I mean, a side part is pretty common … right? – and then she began her work. I should’ve realized something was awry when she gasped and whipped my chair around so I no longer faced the mirror.

“Uh… you comb it from here to here?” she asked, her fingers touching those respective sides of my head.

I demonstrated the combing motion with my fingers. “Yeah,” I replied.

“Uh… okay. Um, let me check with my supervisor.”

I thought it was odd that she’d need permission from higher up to cut a customer’s hair the way he’d requested.

Well, the supervisor came out – a female, not much older than the girl doing the cutting – and her eyes widened noticeably. “What was it that you wanted your hair to do?” she asked me.

“I just want an ordinary business cut, like you see on nearly every other working man in Shreveport and Bossier,” I replied, still baffled that side-parted hair was such a mystery to these females.

At that point, there were whispers and discreet hand motions between the two of them; the supervisor indicated the younger girl should stand back. Then the supervisor took the scissors and comb and began whacking away at my left side. They still had not turned my chair around, so still I had no idea what they’d done… but I knew it was definitely NOT good. Their attentions had also aroused the interest of several people waiting in the chairs along the wall.

The supervisor stood back a moment, then made another snip or two. Then she said, “We have a small problem.” She slowly rotated the chair so I could finally see what they’d done. The younger girl had chopped out a huge chunk of hair and I now had a HOLE on the left side of my head… where the hair from the right side part would have combed over. [Please understand, when I say “comb over” I don’t mean it comes from my ear height. My part is right of center… that’s all.]

So I asked, “What happened?” It was actually a pretty stupid question. I knew exactly what had happened. I’d had the misfortune of getting a brand new stylist, apparently fresh out of barber school (if she’d even graduated)… and so young that she seemingly had no concept of what a standard “business” cut looked like. [Maybe I should have said “office” cut.]

Well, by this time, all this activity had drawn whispers from the gallery and a small crowd of gawkers. At least one person waiting – presumably after seeing the damage to my hair – just stood and walked out. He’d probably wanted a business cut also.

Of course, by now I was so embarrassed by all the attention – not to mention those awful results – that my immediate goal was simply to escape. I didn’t figure either of them would actually be able to do anything to salvage it — except maybe give me a buzz cut. After all, my first look at this travesty was after the supervisor had already repaired some of the contrast between the large “hole” and the rest of my hair.

The more both of them apologized, the more embarrassed I got and the greater certainty I had that it looked more awful than I could see with one mirror.

I left as soon as they could remove my drape.

I had to walk around town – and work (and church) – for around two weeks before my hair grew out enough for another haircut. It was that point that I found Georgia. On my first visit with her, I explained the sad tale of my experience at Saturdays and Georgia said, “That’s okay, we can fix part of it now. In two more weeks, we’ll even out the rest. After that, you won’t even remember you had a big hole here.”

Ha. Well, it’s around 30 years later and I’m BLOGGING about it. LOL.


What is YOUR worst experience with haircuts or hairstyles?



Posted in haircuts, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

Too much, too little

This week we are talking about bad hair cuts. I have had my share of them, it seems that every hair cut is a bad one. That might have something to do with the fact that I only cut my hair once every 2 to 3 years now.

When I was younger I had long beautiful hair. I loved it, my parents had just purchased a lot of hair supplies for me: scrunchies, barrettes, bows, ribbons, etc. When my dad took me in to get a trim. He told the stylist that I was only there for a trim then he went to the waiting room. I sat in the chair and waited as my hair was brushed, spritzed, combed, snipped. When I was turned around to look in the mirror I was staring at a the shortest I had ever seen my hair. I was in tears. My dad was furious. My mom when she saw my hair went down there and the lady only replied, “Well what do you want me to do? Glue it back on?” Another appointment was made at a different salon and a very nice lady fixed the horrible cut by giving me a pixie. While the pixie cut was cute I was not happy at all. I was a tomboy and always got teased for being like a boy, now I looked like one! Or so I thought.

Once my hair had grown back out I decided I wanted a perm. My sister and her friends (10 years older than myself) all had them and I wanted to be exactly like my big sister. In my eyes she was cool. She was in high school, she got to travel by herself to the big city (for a chorus concert and she was on a bus with the other students), she had a job, and drove a car! Not just any car but my dad’s Impala convertible. I wanted to be like her. So I begged until my mom agreed to the perm. She made an appointment for me. I came out of the salon thinking I looked wonderful. A few hours later I was sitting on the porch with my brothers when one of them dumped a bucket of water on my head. My hair was ruined. I never tried to get a perm again after that.

Then here a few years back I decided I wanted to donate my hair to Locks of Love. It went all the way down my back and I wanted a change. One of my cousin’s went with me since Wyatt was only a toddler there was no way he would sit still while my hair was cut. I had the cut picked out and showed it to the stylist. She nodded and said she could do it. Excitement filled me as she shampooed my hair. I had not been to a salon to get my hair cut in over 13 years, the last time was in middle school. My cousin popped in with my son in her arms after a bit. She and the stylist started talking. The two of them agreed that my hair was cute. When I was turned around it was not the style I had asked for.

“It’s not short enough.” I told her.

The stylist looked at me and then to my cousin with a worried glance. Then said, “I think it’s cute. I’m not cutting any more. You’ll regret it tomorrow.”

That was the end of that conversation as she walked off into the back room. When I told the lady at the counter I was not happy with my cut she also told me it was cute and that I would regret it being shorter than that in the morning. She insisted that with as long as my hair was I didn’t know how short I wanted it and she seemed to think I would be in tears the next day.

I tired to make the best of it since nobody there wanted to cut it shorter. The picture on the left is what I was supposed to be getting done and the picture on the right is what I actually got. It is a cute cut, it was just not what I had requested.


Now as I am getting ready to go back to get my hair done I have been thinking about the cut I want for a long time. Since last summer. It will be a short one yet again and one that will be easier for me to curl. I love my long hair but every three years I want to cut it all off and let it grow out again.

I have more hair disaster stories that belong to my children. Like the time my oldest brother decided he could give my 4 year old son a hair cut before the “grandkid” portrait we were getting for my parents. Or the time my daughter went to her dad’s for the weekend with beautiful curls and came back with short straight hair (her curls never did return). That time I decided I could cut my son’s hair (he was 10 now) and ended up having to shave it.

Have you ever had a barber/stylist refuse to cut your hair the way you requested? Or do something completely different than what you had in mind?

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Crowning Glory – or Not

Bad hair

This week, one of our foxes asked about haircut disasters. I’ve had them, but never thought of them as story-worthy. I guess the first time would have been in junior high and I got tired of my bangs hanging in my eyes. Dad usually cut our hair, but at that time he was busy starting up a brand-new credit union and working lots of late nights. So I found his scissors and cut. Unfortunately, I snagged some of my left eyebrow in the process. Mom made sure Dad was always available after that.

In high school, I had long, straight hair, and it fell to my waist. Then, just before I went to college, my mother decided I needed to look more adult, and her idea of an adult look was shorter, curlier hair. She made an appointment with the owner of the salon she went to each week. I watched in horror as he chopped off about a foot of hair and subjected me to a permanent. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that Asian hair reacts to a permanent more harshly than the hair he was accustomed to working on, and my hair burned. I looked like I’d poked my finger into an electric socket. After Mom and I sobbed for two days, she called a different girl in the shop who took pity on me and cut off the burned waves and did what she could to salvage my pride. Neither of us ever returned to that place.

After that disaster, I was much more careful about who did what to my hair. I’ve never had it colored, so it’s gradually transforming from black to white. And it’s straight, but it’s thick, and from what people who cut it tell me, it’s healthy. But having two daughters, there have been a couple of mishaps – and both were due to having permanents. Their daycare provider was also a beautician, and she suggested that my older daughter could use a little curl in her hair. I warned her about the problem I’d had, and she assured me she’d take precautions to make sure that didn’t happen. Unfortunately, whatever precautions she took didn’t quite do the job – and the poor girl had frizzy hair for a little while. My younger daughter decided in her senior year that she wanted wavy hair. So she saved up her money and found a stylist who had experience working with Asian hair and paid big bucks to have her long hair permed. The woman did a nice job and my daughter had beautiful long wavy tresses for a month. And then this child of mine decided she liked the straight look better and spent another fortune to have it removed. Sigh.

What’s your hair horror story?


Posted in horror stories, Patricia Kiyono, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Audio Cookbook Giveaway

Another Free Week here and this time it is a ‘free’ week, in that I have an audio book contest to plug.

I have yet to plug anything I have published on 4F,1H, (not that I have managed to get a book finished), but I have had online and print publications. However, I have plugged my easy entertaining and food blog, Tonette Joyce:Food, Friends, Family, here at WordPress. I am not only a major foodie, I cooked and baked professionally, I owned and ran a bakery/restaurant. In all my entertaining and professional experience, I found that many people erroneously believe that they cannot cook, and often do not have confidence in their skills to entertain. So I put aside my intricate recipes and fancy cake work to show people how easy it is to cook simply from scratch, and how it is OK to take an occasional short cut… and to that end I offer the following contest:


A very dear and longtime friend, Diane Davis, is an accomplished actress/singer/songwriter who has been in several movies, TV shows and advertisements,(with a recent upswing in her career ). She has been sought after more and more for her voice talent in movies and is now in demand to narrate audio books. One of her most recent is “Dump Dinners Cookbook”, written by Daniel Cook, a late-blooming, but now renowned, chef.

I know that many of you do not consider yourself cooks, but all the more reason to have this book!The recipes are for slow-cookers,(“Crockpots”), and quite short. The tastes are basic to sophisticated. Some have a few have extra steps, but the directions are easy . Diane reads them to you in a clear, concise, yet friendly, voice.

I bought a copy for myself .It only runs in the range of $2.99-3.99, and it is a bargain. Diane has offered a copy for me to give away. So, I will ask you to visit me on Food, Friends, Family to learn more, or let me know here below that you’d like to be entered. Please leave an email address or private message me on Facebook, at either or
and I will enter you along with the few who have entered on FFF. I don’t get much feedback on guests there and I thought, here there are book people, and here’s a book contest! Join the fun.[If you aren’t on Facebook, you can email your email address to]

We will have a drawing Next Thursday on February 4th and I will announce the winner in short message next week.

Please enter message below and enter. Please check out the cookbook even/especially if you think you can’t cook. Daniel Cook didn’t think he could, either!

Posted in authors, book review, Books, careers, connections, Family, free week, GIveaways/Contest, Tonette Joyce | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Off the Grid?


Introducing “Pleased to Meet Me”

By Jeff Salter

Since it’s a free week here at 4F1H, no better time to highlight my recent novella from Clean Reads — Pleased to Meet Me.

Here are some of my expanded tag lines:

Can a city girl find herself in an isolated mountain cabin…off the grid? Can Cody Wilder help?

Off-the-grid is the last situation this city girl ever wanted. But what does Cody want?

How far off-the-grid is too far for this city girl to go? How far will Cody take her?

What will she find in an isolated mountain cabin, besides a guy with a pet rooster? Maybe…herself.


            Stumbling through woods in a dark thunderstorm, she doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, or what happened to all her belongings. Up ahead is the small, isolated cabin of handsome young survivalist Cody Wilder, who’s grown accustomed to his bachelor life off the grid.

            In a blinding thunderstorm, a woman comes to after a mishap and staggers to the nearest cabin in an isolated, mountainous part of eastern Tennessee. She has no recollection of what happened or why all her valuables and identification are missing.

The younger male cabin dweller is a modified survivalist, who only gets to town about once each month, and loves his simple off-the-grid life. Handsome Cody Wilder offers shelter, attempts slightly awkward comfort, and tries to help her evaluate her past and her future.

Pleased to Meet Me.” Novella, only $2.99. Clean Reads, 2015.

Cover by Amanda Matthews at A.M. Designs Studio

Have you ever lived off the grid? Have you wanted to? What you have to give up?


[JLS # 265]

Posted in Uncategorized | 10 Comments