Facial hair has a habit of growing on you that way, in all the wrong directions and places.

I'm new to the game, having never grown a beard in all my existence.

An existence which pre-dates not only this year's postponed Tokyo Olympics but the last time they held one in the land of the rising sun.

My yen for facial hair has only ever extended as far as sideburns in the past, due to lack of genetic facility and resultant personal humiliation.

Attempts have typically petered out along the under jaw in a briar-patch of unsightly rust-coloured pubes.

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A beard, if that's what you called that salt-and-pepper abomination, was always a bridge too far.

Then along came COVID lockdown and the chance to go to seed in social isolation.

Fair to say the facial hair has been free styling for the last 100 days now to the point it needs some of that styling you pay for.

Put another way, I've let my inner mammal roll long enough and now I need to see a barber.

Or someone with a whipper-snipper.

I hear there are all types of hipster-outlaw tricks for taming and maintaining the mane.

Clippers, scissors, perhaps a full sleeve tat.

Ultimately, a steady hand seems most important.

I'm worried one DIY slip doing something with the razor could undo all those months of doing nothing.

Similarly, the hair-do at the back of the beard has run amok too.

Now they've got to be co-ordinated with so many combinations to consider.

Can you go long on one and short on the other, or vice versa?

Like the share market, I'm not sure if my stocks are rising or falling.

Maybe that's why there's been so much stroking of the bristles. Like a nervous twitch reminding myself it's still there.

I'd hate to give the impression I'm actually thinking about something.

Like transmitting COVID into my mouth.

But there's always that potential I suppose, looking at the latest infection rates.

You'd like to think your iso-beard/steel wool started off as a protest against the pandemic.

Standing up to coronavirus by letting personal grooming go out the window.

But that was probably always going to happen working from home.

And just like the tree that falls in the woods, there is debate about whether my iso beard exists if no one sees it.

When people do see it, there is debate about whether they should continue to see it. Which at least makes it a talking point.

If people can see my lips moving.

It's just starting to hit that soup straining length.

Providing haven for food stuffs and bush ticks seeking shelter from the cold.

It works well as a facial doona in a stiff southerly but I'm still chillin' on how to approach the prune.