A handkerchief

If there was a contest for sweating, surely I would win. Especially if it was held early in the morning. I tell people at work that I don’t wear makeup because I would sweat it all off before 9 a.m. (although I really don’t wear makeup because I have no interest in it). I used to think that it was the coffee but recently when I ran out of coffee and drank a cold drink instead there was no difference in the sweat gland production.

Anyway, it would make sense to work in the Back Forty early in the morning when I have the most energy and it is cool, but all my sweating attracts every mosquito in the neighborhood.

I have been using tissues to mop down at work but it occurred to me that with this quantity I needed to think back when I was an athlete because I was a sweat-er then too. If I didn’t wear a headband I couldn’t see. And I carried bandannas. I was digging in my dresser drawer for my bandannas when I came across an item that I had forgotten about. My daddy’s handkerchief.

Daddy was of the World War II generation – he wore hats and he carried handkerchiefs. Farm work and fishing meant a cap or fishing hat. Church or other social occasions meant a fedora. I loved my Daddy’s hats. And our laundry always had handkerchiefs in it. Handkerchiefs make a lot of sense – they hold up much better than paper towels or tissues and can be washed and used over and over again.

Remember the movie scenes when a man offered a weeping woman his handkerchief? How gallant. And in the comedies, the woman would blow her nose loudly into it and hand it back to the man, who would say, “That’s okay, you keep it.”

Although I will probably still use tissues to blow my nose, I’m going to start carrying this handkerchief with me to lessen my glow, so to speak. And it will be a nice reminder of my father.

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