Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo went out and bought himself a beard-trimmer this weekend, so I guess I’m all in on the plague times face furniture.  I actually like it.

So far, Mrs. R still hasn’t had much to say about it except she’s started fussing at me about keeping my moustache cut back.  We’ll see how that works out.

On the other hand, I was fool enough the other day to casually mention that maybe I’d let her trim the ducktails at the back of me head.  She’s been chasing me about nearly constantly with a pair of scissors since then, enthusiastically offering to do the sides as well.

I’ve seen the way she trims Decanter Dog.

It isn’t happening.

UPDATE:  Of course Mrs. R gave me the side-eye this morning and said she didn’t like the beard so much.  “It makes you look older,” she said.  I told her that was one of the things l like about it.

I think the real issue is that I haven’t trimmed it at all and it’s sort of spiking out all over the place.  I promised her she’d  like it more once I cleaned it up.

And there the matter stands.  For the moment.