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Tattoos


I have wanted a tattoo for as long as I can remember.  I wanted one years ago when my daughter turned 18 and promptly got her first one.  I wanted one when she added a second one years later.

One of the reasons I waited so long was figuring out what tattoo I wanted and where I wanted it.  The location had to be one I could hide when I went to work but could reveal to friends when I wanted without having to get undressed.  It's a delicate choice.  Then there is the whole issue of what I want put on my body with the understanding that it will be there forever.  Hmmmmm.  A rose was always a likely choice.  It is my favorite flower but lots of people have rose tattoos.  A hummingbird, perhaps?  Or a butterfly? All are nice choices but don't really speak to me.  I would like the coroner to have some idea who I was as I lie on his cold table by the tattoos on my body.

It came to me in a flash.  Son of a gun!  Yes!  I need a distaff tattoo.  And it must be a distaff that's been dressed with flax.  So I've decided on the picture.  Now that I'm old and not going into the office, any office other than my own, I really don't need to worry about putting it someplace that I can hide.  OK.  Right leg, lower calf - so I can show it off and also see it.

I know nothing about where to go to get a tattoo.  I know tattoo parlors are popping up in the nice parts of town rather than down dark alleys like they were when I was young. Enter my wonderful daughter.  l asked for a tattoo for Christmas.  I didn't need her to pay for my tattoo, especially since I had no idea how much one would cost, but I did need someone to figure out where I should go, make the appointment and walk through the door with me.  I'm such a chicken.

We walked through the door, filled out the paperwork and took a seat.  They needed to know what my medical issues are and if I was of sound mind although I think the medical info was the more important.  Then it was my turn.  It took about an hour.  It was noisy but not as bad as I expected.  It was uncomfortable but not nearly as bad as I had anticipated.  And then I was finished.  I have a wonderful distaff on my leg.

<Note - it's hard to take a picture of your own tattoo on the side of your own leg>

They say tattoos are addictive.  I think they are.  Now I need an end-feed shuttle on my right forearm.  And a spider web on my neck.  And a bit of woven fabric on my left arm. I keep getting great ideas for more!  So far it's only the one but now I can go all by myself and get whatever else I can dream up.  That's so cool.