His Favorite Hat

On our way to Las Vegas a week ago today, we stopped over night in Bakersfield just to break up the drive. We had reserved a nice hotel room getting a good price with Priceline.com, and enjoyed a scrumptious dinner at Stuart Anderson's Black Angus. The next morning Ken realized he had left his hat—his very most favorite hat—at the restaurant the night before.

It was about 9 a.m. when we drove by to pick up his hat and read the sign that they didn't open until 4 in the afternoon. Bummer! Since we planned to go to visit my sister in Big Pine after our Las Vegas adventure, we figured the hat was simply a "gonner" because we'd never be back in Bakersfield at four in the afternoon in the near distant future. It's not only his favorite hat that keeps the hairless top of his head warm, especially in the wintertime, it had two precious chicken feathers that he also dearly loved (which don't show in the picture) slipped in the band. Double bummer!

Las Vegas adventure came and went, and as it turned out we had to cancel the Big Pine visit because the roads were basically closed unless one had snow tires or chains—neither of which we had with us—so we had to come home . . . right through Bakersfield. Again we have a hotel room waiting for us and the first thing he did when we checked in was to call the restaurant, and sure enough they still had his hat. He is so glad to have it back. I believe his words were . . .

Life is good!