I used to love watching Dad shave. He’d dip the stick of green shaving soap into the water then rub it over his face and neck, after that he’d take the shaving brush, dip it in the water, give it a little flick then set to work lathering up the soap. He worked in circular motions over his cheeks, his upper lip, chin, and down around his neck. Of course, sometimes I’d get a dob of shaving cream on the tip of my nose.
He used a safety razor with metal handle which screwed off from the head. The razor blade was positioned on top of a little plate then a cover sat over it before the handle was screwed back on securing everything in place. I watched as he shaved paths through the foam then rinsed the razor in the sink before flicking the water off and continuing the shave.
What vivid memories his old shaving gear brings back, maybe there’s just a whisker of him still here.