I am grieving for a lost hat. Here is Canis croxorum, modelling the item, before I lost it.
I bought this hat in Snowbird, Utah, in the mid-’90s. I had been at a conference there one summer, and on the last day I went to the hiking store where they were selling equipment at a knockdown price. I bought a pair of lovely Timberland boots for $35. And this hat. With boots and hat I hiked up to 10,000 feet (I was wearing other clothes at the time, not just boots and hat) after which I ran out of atmosphere and had to come down.
In 1998 I took the boots and hat with me to Kenya, where for a couple of weeks I was part of a palaeontological field crew in a remote region to the west of Lake Turkana. I still have the boots, but, alas, not the hat.
Ever since then, this hat – worn with pride on three continents – has been my constant companion. Sun, wind and rain have burnished the brown felt to a shade of green.
Until last Friday.
That’s when I went for a walk in Cromer with Canis croxorum, and came back without it. I think I must have put it down somewhere while we rested on a bench for a minute, and didn’t pick it up.
So, if you are passing Cromer and happen to find my field hat, do call by at the Maison Des Girrafes and collect a reward. This will be a half-dozen eggs. No big deal, really – pretty much anyone who calls by these days gets a half-dozen eggs, whether they want them or not. They’re good eggs, though.