I like my hair short. Very short, in fact. As luck would have it, though, my beloved likes it long. Actually, as long as possible. Which means that we are at odds concerning my hair much of the time (see, e.g., “Our Haircut Ritual,” November 4, 2013). The last decade or so, I let my hair grow before I go to Zagreb. Pure love, as I like to boast. Also, I go for a haircut the day I go back to Motovun, so that my beloved sees me with long hair before she goes to work. And so that my hair grows again by the time we see each other the next time, be it in Motovun or in Zagreb. As I am leaving Zagreb early this afternoon, this is the haircut day. After about two months without a haircut, I am looking forward to it with joy in my heart. My beloved is on her way to her office already. In an hour or at most two, I will be back to normal, as it were. And I can hardly wait for the blessed haircut. As short as possible, please!