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Gwen over at Everything I Love Causes Cancer insisted that everyone play along and have a show and tell.

Relentlessly.

So I'm a good bloggin' fool and here's my examples of "clothing I can't throw away".

I couldn't narrow it down to just one article, 'cause there's 3 that fall into the category for me and quite frankly, I have no idea how I've hung on to these things all these years. When I divorced I had a whole bunch of artifacts that became... gone. There are photographs that I'd love to have and stuff like that, but oh well. That's a whole nuther thing. Anyway we'll start off with number 3.



A gray sweatshirt that is now almost devoid of sleeve cuffs and has many more holes and stains in it than what's showing in this picture of me and Ruby the genius sheep. The shirt is monogrammed with the name of the gunshop that I owned for a buzillion years. I love this old shirt, it makes me happy when I wear it. Ruby, by the way passed away this past winter. It ain't the same 'round here missing her greeting us with her obnoxious bleating whenever she saw us in the yard.










The next shirt is "Wilson". I can't remember where this came from but I've had it forever. Nicky my daughter became so ashamed of it at one point she hid it from me. It reappeared when it came up in conversation later on. The shoulders of it are so full of holes it looks like I've been shot with a shotgun.










And finally, an artifact from about 1973 or so. Somehow I've hung onto this, and the peculiar thing is that nothing else I could have held onto would have capitalized my youthful stupidity better than this. It's worn thin and the transfer is flaky crusty. More than anything it probably states the places I've been and the bus I took to get there.








Gwen. I hope you're happy.
:-)





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