I can barely keep up with the grooming that Jackie and Jillie require, their hair grows in so swiftly. A testament, I would imagine, to their general state of good health. So yesterday morning, after assembling all the various-sized and -tasked scissors I use in the effort, both received haircuts, a time-consuming and sometimes difficult task. Jillie more or less cooperates with patience, while her brother tends to be skittish and creates every kind of impediment to progress that he can muster. But finally, the job was done and they appear neat and presentable once again. At least for the remainder of that day.

Turned out that hair grooming became a family affair, yesterday. I must have felt inspired after cutting their hair, to view my own more critically and I must admit that the same element of quickly growing-in hair that I see in them, is also reflected in my own hair. So I took scissors to hand and a mirror, and did the same with my own mane. And I guess I was a little too impatiently enthusiastic with myself, since I ended up snipping more than I should have, ending up with a too-short cut.

Which in turn inspired my husband to trim his beard and his hair. So all of us have now been groomed and look  --  well, we look just fine. Jackie, after the torment he underwent through his  hair-cutting process, became madly animated directly afterward, racing about the house, leaping over his slower sister and generally rambunctiously cutting up. That continued when I had them out soon afterward for a ravine walk which was considerably brightened by the snow that had fallen the day before, augmented by that day's lighter snowfall.

The snow seems to energize them, excite them into leaps and bounds of exuberant reaction. And it's a treat to watch them acrobating their way through the trails, happily deep in snow, cavorting and disporting themselves in an excess of appreciation of life and liberty.

Can there ever be an excess?