Jennifer!

As those of you who saw Harry recently know, his hair was reaching shoulder length. He had had one haircut since we returned to Minnesota in late March. That haircut was a "cost-cutters" sort of haircut and it was pretty horrible. He resorted to trimming his own hair and even got me involved with trimming the parts he could not reach. He insisted he would just wait for a proper cut in Cabo from Jennifer. He hates to have his hair cut, claiming he was traumatized as a child by some brutal English barber, called Sweeney Todd (that's why he hated the movie so much). Some may have trouble buying this one: I know I do.

Our friend Jennifer, hair stylist extraordinaire here in Cabo, cut Harry's hair last week. (You can now perhaps see why it was worth the wait.) I met Jennifer our first year here through one of my students and she became our "hair person" and our friend. She even made house calls to our condo to cut our hair when we lived here. The first time she cut and colored my hair she would not let me see what she had done to me until she was completely finished. I remember the moment when she spun me around in the chair so I could see myself in the mirror. My hair was darker than it had ever been in my life! I looked positively Mexican. Talk about trauma! After my initial shock, I decided it was very fun to do something so different and I liked not being immediately taken for a gringo in Mexico. A few weeks back, I let my new Minneapolis hairdresser have her way with me too, and I went blonde. Jennifer taught me sometimes it can be fun to just let go and have some fun. I have tried to apply this philosophy to other aspects of my life with less success.

Tomorrow we begin our long journey home. We have been stuffing the car and getting on each's others nerves over the last couple of days. I am feeling very sad at leaving the friends who have become our Cabo family. It seemed like we just picked up where we left off ... wonderful dinners, tea times, and parties as we caught up with their lives. We even stopped into the Blue Med Clinic where Liz took Harry immediately after his accident and our lovely doctor, Omara, was on duty. There were the hugs and kisses, of course, and even a bit of a tear in her eye when she saw how well Harry had recovered. I will never forget how, when she began to examine my blood-soaked husband, she gently asked if his nose had always been bent so much to one side. She took such good care of him, too, when his blood pressure went out of control.

I am going to try applying that spirit of fun Jennifer taught me about hair to the 3,500 mile trip home. It is going to be hard at times, but heck, I'm the gringo who tried looking more Mexican for a bit and then went blonde. I can do it!