I thank God for my collection of hankies. Between sweat, tears, and an occasional speck of blood from a sneaky thorn, I go through two-three a day. I still think of Cathy who had an affinity for hankies just like I do.
I think the days are gone when a gentleman would offer his hanky to a lady. Now, in the days of COVID-19, some might be horrified to be offered a hanky. This wasn’t going to be a post about all the ridiculousness of this “pandemic” mess we are in, but, well, there it is. I am so OVER wearing a mask and feeling coerced because I don’t think the masks do a bit of good.
Back to the hankies. I love to find them in antique stores. But, again, with the “pandemic” I have no interest in going to an antique store. I don’t even enjoy going to the grocery store anymore. I’m about ready to rebel.
I think I better just stop here. Maybe one day I will wax poetic about hankies. Today isn’t that day.