You were good to me, old shirt. A little too big - well, ok. A LOT too big - large enough to wear two layers under when it was chilly but not cold. Heavy enough to serve as a very light jacket for those mornings when all I needed was something over my arms, not an actual jacket.
What kind of shirt? Long sleeveed denim. Made by…um…err…who the heck is “Roman’s”? Made in Hong Kong. See reverse. Machine wash cold. No bleach. Tumble dry…
<ahem>
Sorry, caught up in memories. Horseback riding. Two state fairs. Hanging out at gramma’s. Going to work. Well, ok, the last isn’t exactly a GOOD memory, but you know what I mean.
And the last memory, shooting black powder rifles up at the neighbors. Yes, after all that animal dung and kitchen bullshitting, I lose you to that grease-type-stuff you use on the wads that you shove down a muzzle loader.
Oh, sure, you have a few more oil changes and rifle shots in you, but I can’t take you out in public anymore.
Going to miss you, Blue 