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Yesterday after work I ran straight to my hair stylist and got a haircut.  She chopped an inch off of my wild mane and it felt great.  She could have gone another 1/2 inch, but I’m satisfied for now.

When I got home I was like a ball of fire.  I had a smile on my face and lots of chatter to spew at Husby.  He referred to me as the Anti-Samson.  Instead of my weakening with the loss of my hair I gained strength and vigor.

Husby was glad to see me chatty and smiling after being at the day job.  I haven’t been chatty and smiling for a couple of weeks now, so I must be getting back to myself again.  Chop off my hair and I’m good to go.

Today I’m having lunch with Mary Ann.  We’ve known each other since high school and when we both got big girl jobs in the big city of St. Paul we started having lunch once a month.  For the last twenty or so years we’ve had our monthly lunch at the same restaurant.  They know us.

Mary Ann has been retired for two weeks now, and I’m getting ready to launch that rocket on December 1st.  Today we’re having our last “downtown” lunch.

Right now I have only six more days at the day job.  It’s surreal.  It’s glorious.  It’s just a little bit scary.  But mostly it’s an admirable milestone and the beginning of a whole new episode.

I’m glad I got my hair cut yesterday.  It’s given me the energy to boldly move into retirement life.  After all, I am the Anti-Samson.

 

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curlylocks_willcox

Curly locks, curly locks wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam
And feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream

“The lyrics simply reflect that curls are a symbol of elegance and beauty. This symbolism relating to curls and beauty has been reflected in many works of literature. The message in the lyrics is that a girl with ‘Curly Locks’ is so desirable that her future will be a comfortable life probably made by a good marriage.”  ~ Nursery Rhymes, Lyrics, Origins & History

I have curly locks.  At the risk of sounding full of myself I can honestly say I get tons of comments on my hair because 1) I obviously don’t dye it, and 2) it’s curly.  Lots of women envy my hair and I’ve even received compliments on it from men.

thCAQF3WNSIt was time for a hair cut, so I went in and got my usual bob style.  Then the stylist went berserk.  She started blow-drying my hair, something I avoid at all costs.  She blew and fluffed, blew and fluffed.  Then she did something that nearly made me shriek.  She took one of those round brushes and wrapped my hair around it while the blow dryer was directly on my hair!  I thought my head would go up in flames!  Okay, I thought, she knows what she’s doing, so I tried not to freak out too much.  By the time she was done with me my hair was completely straight.  Straight!

I don’t think there are any nursery rhymes about straight hair, and if there were they’d probably say something like,

Straight locks, straight locks, do the dishes and feed the pigs

I was so horrified by how my hair turned out I wore a hat to the gas station so no one would see the trauma done to my lovely curls.  Yes, I was quite aware that once I washed my hair again the curls would magically reappear, and they did, but for ten hours I looked like a stranger.  A stranger with straight hair.

So the next time I find myself complaining of the wily nature of my curly locks I’ll remember the day my curls were killed and be grateful for my oval-shaped follicles.  And the next time I see that blow-dryer and brush come my way I’ll remind my stylist that curls are admired and envied and if she dare take them away, well, I might just have to cut her.  How’s that for elegance and beauty?

P.S.  I don’t actually have anything against straight hair, it’s just that mine isn’t shouldn’t be made to be straight.  If you have straight hair I don’t really think you should have to wash dishes and feed pigs.

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There’s a little break in my Wordless Wednesday tradition today.  In fact, I’m writing this on Tuesday night because, well, I just have to.

Things went fairly well at the Dancing Dragonfly Winery last weekend.  For a first time event and considering the fact that it started to rain pretty heavily on Saturday evening it was, as a whole, a good experience.  I made a little money too!  As you might know, I have another winery show coming up this coming weekend (Chateau St. Croix) and I’m doing my best to get restocked to full capacity this week.  I’m pretty confident I’ll be able to do it.

This evening I took a little time out to play some tennis with Charlotte, which was a very good thing because as it turns out I was completely depleted of endorphins.  The minute I pulled into the parking lot of the courts I saw a mist of rain on my windshield.  What?!  No way!  We decided to play anyway, at least until the balls were in danger of getting too wet.  Turns out we got in about forty-two minutes of play before the mist turned into actual rain.  I got some endorphins, which was a very good thing.  I hope Charlotte did too.

But there’s the issue of my hair.  I’m about a month past due on my quarterly hair cut, but had an appointment for tomorrow (Wednesday).  I found out tonight (Tuesday) that my stylist just went into the hospital with a nasty case of an infection and bursitis riddled arm.  I’m really sorry for her and hope she gets better, but I can’t help feeling very sorry for myself too.  I mean, my hair.  It’s enormous.  I was hoping for a very cute cut in time for the show this coming weekend (I made do last weekend because she couldn’t get me in last week) but it looks like that’s not going to happen.  Unless I go to someone else.

How horrible would that be?  I’ve been putting my hair in the hands of this woman for over twenty years.  I feel like I’d be cheating on her.  But my hair.  It’s enormous.  I can’t emphasize that enough.  Tomorrow I’ll know more regarding her condition and will have to make a decision then.  She may be back to work soon, but there’s the thing about her sculpting my hair while feeling less than 100%.  Would she be able to work her usual magic, or will my locks suffer?  The stress of the situation is nearly unbearable.

I’m trying to relax, listening to my twinkle bell station on Pandora, and sorting everything out through writing.  So much for Wordless Wednesday.

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