WITH A HEARTFELT LITTLE HAT PRAYER, I HIT THE SWITCH

 IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AROUND THE OLD FRONT YARD FROG POND

I did make it out Saturday evening, and it turned out to be a fine summer's night.  From my spot atop a hill on Tower Line Road, as darkness fell, I was able to see in the far distance three separate fireworks displays.  One to the east, north of Clinton, and two in the direction of Bayfield to the southwest.  The two near Bayfield were very distant and faint, but they were there.  And, in the sky above, steadily on the rise glowed the big and bright nearly full Moon in all its forever mystery and mysticism.  It was a nice way to wrap up an otherwise long and tiring, unproductive day.  And, speaking of full Moons, don't be fooled by the term Strawberry Moon into thinking it is going to be the color of a strawberry.  I think some folks sometimes get fooled by all the color names they have for different Moons.  Just know that the Moon is the same color all the time, regardless of the month or what colorful name has been hung on it.  There is no blue moon, blood moon, pink, purple, red strawberry moon, or fleshy pink colored Moon just because some loony-toon pulls his pants down and moons the neighbors.

SATURDAY NIGHTS TWILIGHT ON A NEWLY MOWN HAY FIELD

 SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALMOST FULL MOON

Today was one of the first mornings I think that it felt warm enough on my walk to be wearing a short-sleeve shirt without a jacket or having to put on a long-sleeve shirt.  Hey, and it's even summer already.

 A SUNDAY MORNING iPHONE PIC OF PURPLE VETCH ALONGSIDE MY WALKING ROAD

It was a Sunday on February 8th of 2015, while boondocked in the Mojave Desert, Kelly and I, on a day trip, walked into an old, beautifully restored train station, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.  The little whistlestop was known as the Kelso Depot, and it was in southern California.  Inside that train station remained the popular and well-known, in its day, by many travelers, the beautiful horseshoe lunch counter.  It was as if weary travelers, having just finished breakfast, had just left their seats to step out onto the train platform to welcome the incoming westward-bound train on its way to Los Angeles and California's Pacific Coast.  It was in this train station that I noticed a small room just off the lunchroom lobby.  It appeared to be a gift shop.  Now, I'm not much for browsing around gift shops, (even at Cracklbarrel) but I had a feeling there just might be something in that room waiting to meet me.  And, so there was.  I saw a rack of hats in the corner, and being in the market for a new hat, I walked right over to the hat rack for a look-see.  To this day, I couldn't tell you what else was in that gift shop, but there on the rack hung just what I was looking for.  It was called, a 'Breezer' hat.  Now, I have a slightly large head, so any hats I wear always have to be an XL, (extra large) and most hat racks or shelves usually have only small, medium, and large.  It was with an excited nervousness mixed with my usual pessimism that I saw a hat slightly larger towards the bottom of the rack and slowly lifted it up to peer at the label.  And, there it was......XL.  But, would it fit!!  I carefully put the hat on......and it fit perfectly.  And that was the beginning of a long and enduring friendship between a man and his hat.  And, I still wear that very same hat most every day to this very day.  Here is my post from that day long ago in Kelso, California, when my hat and I met for the very first time. Oh, And A New Hat  And, the reason for writing about my hat today is that yesterday, after not being washed since Kelly last washed the hat in her Mother's dishwasher in Spencerport, New York, half a dozen years ago, my hat was due for a darn good cleaning.  Of course, I don't have a dishwasher, but I do have a clothes washer, so you can imagine my great trepidation yesterday, when with a light load of other laundry, I carefully placed my prized hat into the washing machine and, with a heartfelt little hat prayer, I hit the switch.  I couldn't bear to listen to all the noisy agitations, swirlalations, or the flow of water under punishing pressure, plus the centrifugal force necessary to spin the bajeebers right out of my favorite hat.  Oh my, what have I done, I thought, as I stepped out of the house and focused my mind on something else.  Later, when the nashing of water and air was done, I carefully lifted the washer lid and daintily extracted my crumpled hat.  Oh my, what a forlorn and soggy-looking twisted mess it was, but at least it had held together and was not in a state of extreme tatters.  I carefully straightened it out and stretched it over an overturned salad bowl.  I then placed it on a table on the back deck, where the sun could gently dry it without being further mashed up in a rotating clothes dryer.  And, I am happy to report, that my hat is all clean and happy now and ready for another dozen or so years if I am.  Maybe it can go to a hat museum someday:))

Al's Music Box:: That Sunday, That Summer by Nat King Cole.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( A man takes his place in the theater, but his seat is too far from the stage. He whispers to the usher, "This is a mystery, and I have to watch a mystery close up. Get me a better seat, and I'll give you a handsome tip." The usher moves him into the first row, and the man hands the usher a quarter.  The usher looks at the quarter, leans over and whispers, "The wife did it."

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"Honey," said this husband to his wife, "I invited a friend home for supper." "What? Are you crazy? The house is a mess, I didn't go shopping, all the dishes are dirty, and I don't feel like cooking a fancy meal!" "I know all that."
"Then, why did you invite a friend for supper?"
"Because the poor guy is thinking about getting married."

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A doctor examining a woman who had been rushed to the Emergency Room, took the husband aside, and said, "I don't like the looks of your wife at all.” "Me neither doc," said the husband. "But she's a great cook and really good with the kids."

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It's paralyzing being a germaphobe; lots of places are really paralyzing to me. Laundromats have these baskets on wheels -- some guy will come in with a big bag of disgusting laundry, put it in the basket, and move it into the washer. And I'm supposed to take my clean laundry out of the dryer, put it in that exact same basket. I don't mind something having a dual purpose, but it's like, 'What's that big green box over there?' 'Oh that's a dumpster, and we also use that to store soup.'

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Al's Doggy World

Meanings::

Al's Art Gallery