"Don't Touch My Hat"

Between the time I was finally divorced from The Plaintiff and when I wed The Mrs The Third, I purchased a "Bangora" straw cowboy hat. Over the years I would misplace it and eventually find it again. It has been stepped on and set on fire more than once. As the years passed, the hat continued to be lost and then found. I have "creased" it countless times. Each crease means something to me. There are several cracks and holes in it. If you look at the picture closely you will notice a slight "pinch" on the top front of the hat. That particular "crease" is sometimes called a "Fort Worth Pinch". I added that years ago in homage to The Plaintiff's Uncle Clovis. You really can not be a real Texan unless you know people with names like Clovis, Aubrey or T.W. I wore this hat while operating a D-7 clearing land for our former church in Tomball. I learned to operate bulldozers from Uncle Clovis. The pictures does not show the burn holes, dirt, bird droppings and the immense amount of sweat stains encrusted into it. I wore this hat as I have cooked countless pieces of meat on the grill. I wear this hat as I work and sweat in my yard. The bamboo stalk and rose bud are both from my yard. It hangs either on a rocking chair that was once owned by my grandmother or on one of the "points" of a deer head on our wall.

Why am I writing about on old straw hat? Who knows?

I just wanted to see if it were possible for me to write a short posting.

Then again "short" is such a relative term.

So I will stop blogging and go mow the yard.

Tootles,

The Third