... or so my mother used to inform us regularly when we were children.  I suspect she may be correct.

Next Wednesday is 'the' day on which my chemo curls will be cropped in favour of what the nice hairdresser man calls "a style" - something he assures me will put an end to the wayward, wacky and actually rather fun waves to which I have grown accustomed these past few months.  I never, ever wanted curly hair, or short hair for that matter, and now I am used to both.  In a perverse way I am sad at the thought of losing my curls, as they give more 'body' to my otherwise very fine hair.  I'm sure "a style" is a good thing... just a bit scary to change my looks yet again.

Anyway, here's a quick snap I took yesterday, mid tropical moment, to celebrate the curls before they become one more memory!