Saga of the Hat

Saga of the Hat

    Going to the beach at Tybee Island, we need a hat. Keep our wrinkles and lines just where they are, no adding family members.

   At a flea market in Anderson IN. I bought a huge floppy monstrosity of a hat. Not my thing. I don’t want my lines making friends. It will do.  

   First day at Tybee Island, I realized I did not bring enough shorts for the beach. I went in search of new shorts. What I found was the perfect hat. White straw with a black band. This is me. 

 Twenty dollars later, I am wearing my new hat. I am a happy Professional Tourist!

    My new hat is a tad loose, no problem, I have a sewing kit somewhere. (That was the key word somewhere...) Pam came to the rescue with her sewing kit. I put a few stitches inside the lining band and tightened it up.  After a few experiments with the breeze... and more stitches I had  enough to keep the hat secured to my head. Proof... I never lost my hat while riding on the golf cart.

    Our last day on the beach, it is a perfect morning. Hot coffee in hand, sun dress and my faithful hat held securely on my head, crease marks on my forehead to prove it is tight.

 A gust of wind came up, tugged at my hat, I flung both hands up to grab my hat, forgot my cooling coffee in my left hand and tossed it over my head, as the wind tore my hat off my head and sent it rolling down the beach. .

. I looked back as I chased my hat, My dear friend Pam is scraping coffee out of her eyes  off her face, out of her hair, and shaking coffee off her blouse. She is scowling at me.  She is not a happy tourist. 

  I tried not to laugh as I turned away to chase my hat. I failed. (Thankfully she wasn't wearing a blouse that would show coffee stains, and no creamer or sugar in my coffee or she'd need a real shower too.)

     My beautiful white hat is now covered in two large splotches of coffee stains, that picked up lots of sand in its travels down the beach. I tried to rinse it out in the ocean, it went limp. What a wimpy hat! I can reshape it when I get home, its not that bad. I will cover the stains with large seashells. 

    On our way home, we stopped at Shell Yeah a place that sells seashells from across the world. Pam had two of the perfect shells I was looking for, they were Fifty cents.  

   “Where did you get those?” I enquired. 

  “In a box of broken stuff in the back corner of the store." (Pam is speaking to me as you can see after the bath in coffee.)

   I hurried to the back of the store. I found a windchime made from a coconut and shells. $5..00. I can re-string it and there are two shells left over for my hat.  I took it up front. The cashier was not happy, it was supposed to go in the back to be restored. He sold it to me at the price on it.  Win for me!

 I discovered my hat had expired on the way home. My suitcase was resting on it. My hat was flat as a pancake no possibility of being reshaped. I will give it a proper burial, after all, it brought me so much joy. My hat is the reason I have beautiful windchimes on my back porch, and...My hat kept my face from bringing home more than a few new acquaintances  of laughter lines from  Tybee Island. 

   (the picture is a fun photo opportunity by a gift shop. )