top hat
Hailey, Idaho: Final Destination in the Snow
The Top Hat Mystery
It fit my head when I got married. It fit my hat when I rode out the front gate. It doesn’t fit my hat any more. What the hell’s going on with my top hat?
Some Top Hat History
The mules and… Continue reading
Shovel and Top Hat
The mules and I camp on a lot of people’s lawns. What to do about the manure? Out here in the Sand Hills of Nebraska, mule manure on a lawn is dispensed with a boot kick. Or, as I recently did, with an old shovel.
A Top Hat Full of Easter Eggs
Happy Easter. The mules and I are waiting out a patch of wet weather at Ryan and Pam Crick’s in Mosheim, TN. Because I can’t give you a chocolate bunny, you’ll have to settle for a top hat full of eggs.
Through the Ice
A young mother stopped the mules and me this week and asked, “why do you travel with a top hat on your pack mule?”
She asked, “Is it in memory of someone? Is it like putting an empty pair of boots in an empty saddle when somebody dies?”
She was giving it way more symbolism than I did.
“No”, I said. “It’s the top hat I got married in.”
“Oh”, she… Continue reading
