Saturday, January 31, 2026 – Day 526

Saturday, January 31, 2026

Good morning, everyone.

Super Bowl Squares Pool
• Pool #1 is sold out
• Pool #2 is open — same deal: $25 per square ($10 goes to ALS United) In the notes section of Venmo or Zelle, please write Super Bowl Squares and your name, and send to: • Venmo: @Nicole-Snarski
• Zelle: nesnarski@gmail.com
• Phone number to verify: 847-687-3312

Once the squares have numbers assigned, I’ll post a photo on the blog. I don’t have it… yet. ——————————————————————— I had my massage therapy yesterday. I’m doing this weekly now, paired with PT, in hopes of getting some relief from my neck discomfort. Any gains I make from stretching seem to be short-lived, and before long I’m back to hanging my head down full-time. It makes daily tasks—already difficult—borderline impossible.

One of those tasks is shaving.

I don’t shave every day anymore because it requires a lot of head lifting. After nearly two weeks of letting my facial hair grow, I really wanted a clean face. This had to be done after a shower—otherwise dragging a razor across my face would have been painful.

So I took my shower, which is exhausting in its own right and doesn’t do my neck any favors. Then I moved on to shaving. I could manage the large, open areas where there’s no loose skin or tricky contours, but I can’t lift my head high enough to see myself clearly in the mirror. I did a so-so job, nowhere near “done.” When I ran my hand across my face and felt plenty of stubble, it became obvious: I needed help.

And there’s really only one person to call. I called out for Cindy. She came into the bathroom, I explained what I needed—and she wanted no part of it. She reminded me she had never shaved a man’s face before, and I believed her. 
“How different can it be from shaving your legs?” I asked. 
“Very different,” was her immediate reply.

“Why can’t you use the electric razor?” She asked.

“The hairs are too long and get pushed down by the razor.” I replied back.

She gave me that exasperated look and took the razor and made her first careful timid pass. The long whiskers immediately jammed the blade to a stop. She didn’t want to hurt me and didn’t want to be aggressive. I told her she had to be—it was my fault for letting it go so long. I briefly thought about going to a professional barber, but that idea died quickly. Getting out in this bitter cold just wasn’t worth it.

Cindy soldiered on, carefully raking my face until I was close enough that I could finish with the electric razor. I had her inspect my face to ensure we hit every spot. She gave me a thumbs-up, which I took as both approval and a clear sign she had reached her tolerance limit. I’m pretty sure shaving wasn’t in the wedding vows—unless it involved a straight razor, and only if she had to do it once.

Going forward, I know I’ll need a different plan if I want a silky-smooth face like Joe Namath’s in that 1973 Super Bowl commercial with Farrah Fawcett.

Meanwhile, I will keep doing what I can to keep my head up. It affects everything I try to do.

Have a good Saturday. Love you guys!❤️

Photo credit to Mark and Barb who were in Lake Geneva at Winterfest which goes through the weekend.