Project GLOWWORM
The seasons have turned quite swiftly, so that hot on the heels of the post-Labor Day retirement of the straw Trilby Mk. III, the linen Trilby was also consigned to winter storage, replaced by the fedora & the flatcap. My flatcap is well-insulated, making it a true cold-weather hat, but I like it enough that I should probably acquire a lighter, slightly more warm-weather flatcap, preferably without a Guinness logo or something similarly gauche. I suspect we're in for at least one more warm spell before the fall chill truly takes hold, so the linen Trilby could very well be in line for a return engagement.

The problem with the fedora, of course, is that one simply cannot pair a fedora with jeans & a polo shirt. The intrinsic appeal of the fedora furnishes additional incentive to up my sartorial game. Speaking of which, however unfashionable a tie pin might be here in the 21st century, I must start wearing mine; the suddenly fierce winds we've experienced in the last few days have been playing havoc with my necktie. The other issue I'm experiencing is that the collars of some of my shirts are now much looser than they were before Operation ÖSTERREICH began to pay dividends, & with some of my undershirts the snug-fitting white collar (normally a virtue I praise in any T-shirt) sometimes shows above the shirt's collar & the knot of the necktie. Distasteful as it is, I see little choice but to experiment with V-neck undershirts.

Just shy of three weeks hence, I trimmed by beard the shortest it's been since it was first growing, after the post-M.M.M. period of reflection & Objective FINNLAND. I did this because it seemed as if the beard was becoming increasingly unruly; more & more wild hairs seemed to be escaping the standard-length trimmings, requiring almost daily culls of the more erect outliers. The metaphor I use, when I do the same thing with my head hair & trim it to the stubbly Level 1 instead of the standard Level 2, is a forest fire. Fires are necessary for the forest to be healthy. Every now & again the accumulated underbrush must be cleared; the fire purges more than it destroys. So it is with the periodic Level 1 "clearing." Alas, the nature of the hairs in my beard—a curly, surly, & gnarly bunch—mitigated away much of the purging effect for which I'd been aiming. There are still tall wild hairs, some having seeming escaped even the shorter trim. I could go shorter, yet, true, but there are few things I hate more in this world than stubble-beards, & I'd be flirting terrifically close to that shameful territory if I trimmed any closer. I've been thrilled in the past week as my beard has finally resumed a familiar aspect. The close trim was a mistake, though well-intentioned. Eternal vigilance & daily culling shall be the order of the day going forward.

Curly & gnarly, sure, but can a beard hair really be surly? I'd venture that I'm better acquainted with my beard than you, dear reader, & I'd ask you to take my word that a hair in a beard can indeed be surly.