Eleanor Tiernan: The joys of a high bun. If you know, you know

If you’re a man reading, don’t think this doesn’t apply to you

Sorry lads. It’s over for ye. Ye tried hard and, in fairness, ye nearly had me. This week however I’ve achieved something that will see all my challengers scrambling in the dust. The years of work and perseverance have paid off. I am happy to announce that my hair has finally grown long enough to be twisted into one of those “top of the head” buns. Yeah, read it and weep, short haired m*th*rf*ck*rs I mean I’m trying to keep my feet on the ground but who can expect me to? This is the kind of achievement that most people only dream of. Anyone who sees me now, from any angle and for miles around, cannot escape the undeniable truth that my hair is just so bloody looooong. Just an elastic band away from needing to be picked up off the road. It’s not. It’s actually just below my shoulders but they don’t know that. For all they know I’m an opportunity to rescue a woman who’s been locked in a tower by an evil prince. I could tell them but I would never try to discourage that kind of thinking.

A duck tried to build a nest in it the other day. Well maybe not an actual nest but I saw a look in the eye of a plover on the canal that told me he was undeniably thinking about it. I’ve taken to sticking a couple of feathers in my bun so they think it’s already been taken by a fellow waterfowl.