When I was little we went to a church that had several ladies that for some reason chose to dye their hair blue. It wasn't silver, it was pastel blue. And you could tell when they had just had the color done. And although it was pretty, well, it was odd. Jonathan and I were talking about this phenomenon (ladies somehow getting it in their head that blue is really close to their natural hair color), and Jonathan coined the term "wild blue hairs".
Our 1st year of marriage, I was working for a co-op school district and one day when I went to the restroom to wash my hands I remember very clearly a white hair staring back at me in the mirror. I was 23 and I felt rather surprised by the whole thing. Now I'm 32 and I have a good parcel of whites and they all congregate in the front middle of my hair. I've had Jonathan look around back and they aren't back there, just in the front. Every now and again I'll realize that there population has taken a jump and it normally coincides with a series extremely stressful days. The last month has been no exception.
Exhibit 1: A motorcycle hitting our borrowed truck. A week of hospital work and another week of car repair ensues.
Exhibit 2: High tide combined with heavy rain makes for area wide flooding of all roads leading to our home. We nearly float the truck (remembered BORROWED) twice trying to get to a place within walking distance of our house to leave the truck so we can wade through the water. This water should never be thought of as safe to touch your body.
Really I'm lucky. My mom has very good coloring to her hair. She thought it was getting to grey and began coloring it but really it was in good shape. My sister hasn't been as fortunate. She really was getting a good deal of grey before she got to her 20s. I think I'm taking after my mom more and my hair color will hold on for a bit longer. I was in at the hair salon some months ago getting a more aggressive haircut than I realized and the young man suggested I could color my hair. We had been talking about my grey's and his idea was that I could go purple or blue. But not the silvery blue of old ladies. His idea was more rock star blue/ purple than old lady blue. I appreciated the thought. Really what's the sense in trying to match the color when we all know its a dye job. Maybe I'll go rock star. But maybe later. After the stress of life really sends the color over the edge.