It featured neat gold embroidery, draw-string hooded area for additional facial warmth, generous pocket area, full length zipper and it just made you feel cosy.........and loved.
Here is a picture of me and the garment in happier times.
I loved it so..... and this is why I have such deep regret for the manner in which it died.
As mention in a previous post, I became quite ill about 2 weeks into our Colombian stay. We were situated in a town high in the Andes and faced a 16 hour winding, slow overnight bus ride to the Caribbean city of Santa Marta, we decided to wait until I was healthy enough to undertake such a journey. As it turned out, I was still very ill when I assumed I was ok.
After 2 hours of bumpy roads I became violently ill, the need to vomit was uncontrollable. Gabby tried to get them to stop the bus, with no success, I had to let go right then and there into my ever faithful Smith Hoodie (who was just minding his own business keeping my lap warm). It proved to be quite the make-do receptacle and I'm sure the (prick) bus conductor was surprised by just how much pepperoni pizza this gringo could put down, but unfortunately couldn't KEEP down.
A moment of hope passed through me thinking 'I could wash him, the smell would eventually disappear. Everything would be back to normal, we could sing, laugh and whistle like we used to'. But no, I was kidding myself, I had to lay him to rest. Coffined in a white plastic bag, placed in a Roadside Rubbish Receptacle (RRR) at a petrol station in Colombia's steamy North.
Miss you Black Beauty, think about you every day.
No comments:
Post a Comment