SILLY BLOODY HAT

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Just talking about silly hats, and I remembered this one… And the tears just run down my cheeks like a spoilt child! Marie was the only woman I ever knew that would wear clothes entirely for comfort rather than for show. She didn’t care a jot that her silly bloody hat looked ridiculous, that her duffle coat was twenty years out of fashion, as long as she was warm, she was happy.  And this the woman who would think nothing of spending two hours torturing her tumultuous hair into tight ringlets after washing it! But this was not a fashion thing it was a practicality… naturally her hair would be a well-sprung thatch, a storm cloud above her head, so the trussing was an essential part of her well-being. I miss her silly hair, I miss her silly bloody hats… I miss every bloody inch of her gorgeous body. These are the thoughts and feelings which populate every minute of every day, if I let them. I hold them tight in a net, but sometimes they leech out and cannot be contained.

oh hum.

Dale’M’

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