Kia ora lovely,
how’s that story of yours coming along this week? Remember, the first draft needs to be messy, because creativity isn’t tidy. It’s gloriously expressive. So let it out, and go easy on yourself ❤️ there will be plenty of time to tidy it up later, during your second, third and fourth drafts!
This is one of the last of a series of stories from memoir writers just like you, who are based all around New Zealand (and Australia), who sent in stories about what they were doing aged two years old. It’s by Josephine, who, aged two, wanted hair like her Mum’s and figured out an ingenious way to get it.
The kitchen scientist by Josephine Wood, Greymouth.
All the big ones are at school right now. It’s just me and Mum at home and it’s quiet. I walk into the kitchen from the lounge and over to the cupboard with all of the baking ingredients. I drag the chrome legged chair over to the bench opposite to the sink. Then I clamber up to open the cupboard perching on the wooden benchtop to reach up.
There they are – blue and red. I take them down and begin. I think the blue and red will be really beautiful and I unscrew the lid and tip the bottle up on top of my head. Lots of it. Next I take the red lid off (It’s called cochineal – made from squashed red ants). I repeat the process and tip the contents on top of my head.
Mum colours her hair. I’ve seen her in the bathroom kneeling over the bath, the water from her hair gushing orangey onto the white bathtub.
All of a sudden I am discovered. “Josie, what are you doing? No no no!”
I am scooped up quickly and rushed down the hall into the bathroom. The bath taps are turned on and the cold water goes all over my head. I can see the colours running into the bottom of the white bath all mixing in to make a muddy brown colour.
I’m squirming and Mum’s rubbing and rubbing and rubbing trying to get the cochineal and the green food colouring washed out of my hair. But no, it won’t wash out. It stays there. Mum is horrified. There is a huge colour splotch in the middle of the top of my head.
“This might not come out of your hair ever. It will be green and red for ages!”
It is 1963. I am somewhere between two and three years old. Yes the colour had to grow out. My siblings tell me it took ages. But this isn’t going to be my last science experiment trying out things I have observed happening in the house …
Josephine with her eldest sister Stephanie, just a little younger than two, around 1960.
PS – Why two years old? Because I’m launching my one year online memoir programme Thursday October 2nd (for people who aren’t already on one of my year long community programmes), and you have two more days to join!
This means students will receive email lessons, with short videos, straight to their inbox for one year. You can still join monthly meets with other memoir writers. You can join for as little as $20 per week x 52. This will be my online course, and more.
As a bonus, if you finish your first draft by the end of October 2026, our amazing book designer will design a book cover just for you.
Charlotte Squire 