I compiled these photos of people in my life and their hats. My husband is rarely seen without a hat on his head. I think he likes to protect his hairless top from the sun although he admits he has a nicely shaped head and is self assured enough to not let baldness be a concern at all. I think he may be one of those men who actually looks great au’natural.
Like the saying goes, “God made a few heads so perfect, he didn’t want to cover them with hair.”
My husband insists he is not a cowboy but everything I have read or come to think of as a cowboy, fits him. He mosey’s along (this is even a nickname his father gave him for being so slow and one I often call him). He is very content “in his own skin”. The hats he owns are such an extension of him. I feel they’ve absorbed much of his spirit. In the cowboy way, if something starts to show a little wear and tear, you don’t toss it…that’s when they start getting broken in and really feel good. He has gone so far as to duck tape one old rancher-style wool cap’s bill when it frayed so bad he had to so something to it. I have pleaded with him to throw it out, I will buy a brand new one, just like it. Nope. This is working fine still.
He owned a two-generation ranch and has lived the predictable lifestyle of a rancher who has to get up and do the chores “right now” because feeding time won’t wait. He can also be a clown and being a Leo has a flare for the dramatic. His stovepipe hat, we found on a fun trip to the withering town of Chloride, NV; almost on the brink of becoming a ghost town with a very interesting “fence” of rusty old junk piled about 3′ high upon entering the town. It has all been carefully placed to form the most unique fence I have ever seen. I’ll add a photo of that when I find it. Of course, “Mosey” had to place the old stovepipe on his head as a hat and, luckily, I had the good sense to capture it. It shows his goofy side.
One year, I got everyone in our family winter hats for Christmas. The fur (or fake fur) hats the kids are wearing are some of those. The beautiful shot my daughter got of her youngest out on a frozen lake a few winters ago in her fur winter hat, her sister is wearing a hat with a bunch of long, twisted tendrils protruding right out of the top of the hat. That year I purchased lots of hats at Farmer’s Markets from crafty people who hand knit or crocheted them. One lady, in particular, had some super creative ideas like this one. Her hats were pure fun!
Often, when I have a grandchild with me in a store, we will play “dress up” (or they will). The two red hats and scarves were them having a blast in a department store one time when they were with me. They looked so striking, I had to catch them on camera. The ten gallon hat was taken in a western feed store when my city-slicker grandkids came up to St George for a visit. They loved all the cowboy things in the store and we had a blast trying on hats and sitting on saddles. I love the expression on my usually shy grandson’s face wearing the Davey Crockett hat. This is one he plunked on his head in the feed store.
“The Real Deal” is my hubby’s true essence. He doesn’t like this photo but I and all his kids adore it. It is the closest likeness to him and captures his down to earth persona. He is real, what you see is what you get, very unpretentious; except when he’s being goofy or dressed to kill.
QUOTE: “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players…” (We play various parts, kids too.)
The cute little elf is my newest, and probably last, grandchild. He came eight years after his older brother, in the photo next to him and made our whole family happy to get another baby to cuddle and love. Babies bring such new life and love to everyone connected with them. Oliver, AKA “Ollie”. Little love.
Have some Las Vegas UNLV fans and the hats show who they are; my daughter and son wearing those hats are not the dyed in the wool fans so much as my son who gave them to them, also pictured at a UNLV game in Vegas.
Lastly, my mother and her pith helmet. She was a neighborhood icon, in her late 80’s walking her dog down to the park (sometimes twice a day) with her tall walking stick and pith helmet. She was a very unique, classy woman who came by this characteristic in a very natural way, she disdained social airs and false pride. I can’t say enough about this woman, who passed away just eight months ago (July 23, 2014) at the young age of 94. I intend to write something of a memorial tribute to her and will share in my blog.
So, hats off to all of you who are still doing your thing, whatever that is. Still working, playing, loving, weeping and getting up again after the fall and carrying on. I love this quote that keeps popping up for me, here and there:
“After all, we are just walking each other home.”