The First Time

So, I finally got around to scanning the photo of my first beard grown in Spain. Not, if it needed be said, the "first beard in Spain" but more so the first beard I ever grew while I lived in Spain. You'll notice a couple things, if I may be so bold. First, the connectors are weak. Up until that age, I could never get the connectors right. I needed the mustache part of my beard to grow long enough to cover the corners. Needless to say, it made me very self-conscious. I would soon come to conquer that fear by forcing it to grow glorious connectors.

Anyway, per the photo, only 1 of the 2 aforementioned bearded-mates of mine over in Spain appears in the photo. The other had since departed the country on his long trek home. The rest of us picked up where he left off and kept it going. The other thing about the photo is that my hair is considerably longer than it is now and has been for the last couple years. Now, when I grow my beard, I grow my hair in conjunction. Generally, the hair is trimmed with a No. 1. With the beard, I let it go freely into the night, wild without restraint. So, I suppose this site will also chronicle the hair growing, too, and its many incredibly awkward stages. As for the beard, it was a great beginning, a portent of many more to come. The day is approaching...