Dear Beulah Mae, You remember your Aunt Maude, I'm certain. Who can forget the sight she made the last time she made her Texas Curtsey at the Gillespie County Fair back in 75? Maude had just been selected Miss Goat Roper (and weren't her mama and daddy proud of their little gal, even if they were vegetarians!). Everybody was a holding their breath 'cause Maude was trying to make her curtsey while she was teetering on them four-inch high heels that her Personal Beauty Pageant Advisor made her wear so as Maude wouldn't look so short and dumpy. (Truth be told Maude ain't got no waistline at all. If it weren't for her Merry Widow, none of them judges would have given her a second look.). Well, Maude was teetering right on the edge of the stage overlooking the hog pens when she went to make her bow to show folks how plum honored and delighted she was to be named Miss Goat Roper of 1975. Afore she was halfway to the ground, Maude's gold sheath dress made of genuine lame fabric from the Sears & Roebuck catalog done started to rip straight up the back. I figure Maude done caught one of them high heels in the hem, but nobody's ever gone know for certain, cause nobody was willing to lay so much as a pinkie on that dress once they got it away from the hogs. Down came Cousin Maude. Fell into the hog pens-- right smack on top of her crown while we all just stood their with our jaws dropping open wide enough for a frog to jump down our throat. Let me tell you, that rhinestone tiara had more pointy spikes sticking up on top than the Statue of Liberty in New York City. Poor Maude, her Texas' Rat didn't do her a bit of good. Them spikes was even taller than Maude's Rat and they had to pull 'em out of the top of Maude's head with a pair of wire cutters. Makes my back molars ache just remembering it. It weren't a pretty sight. By Christmas, Maude's head had healed itself, but Doc said her mind wouldn't never be the same. It pains me to admit that the old fraud was right (and he is a fraud for certain. One day when I ain't so pressed for time and writing paper, you be sure to remind me to tell you about the "arrangement" Doc and that Yankee mortician who moved here last year been cooking up.) Anyhows, Maude's ain't been seen in public for more than twenty years. She don't even come down from that room she fixed herself up in the attic unless she runs out of yarn and that ain't too often 'cause she gets it ordered in and hauled up the outside window by the carton load. Don't know whether Maude's knitting or stitching up there, but she has either made herself some kind of fancy wardrobe or enough chair cushions to give one to every soul that lives in the County. I worry about Maude every time I see that bent up tiara that we keep on the mantle to remind us of our little gal. Mostly, I worry that Maude's gonna forget all her social graces and training if she don't get out and meet folks one of these days real soon. But I had me an idea (and that's why I'm writing, in case you was wondering). Chatty sent over that invitation she got to the Texas Hair Ball that Belle's hoping to attend if she can ever get that paint she got on herself while suffering her confinement (and ain't that Sheriff Yin a disgrace and an abomination!). I was looking at the invite and thinking back on the days when Maude was a Belle, too, and thinking that maybe Belle could wear Maude's Miss Goat Roper tiara. After all, keeping Family traditions is even more important than making sure the truck's washed and got a matched set of wheels before it pulls away from the Church the day of your first born's wedding. And then it came to me! What if we could get Cousin Maude to come down from the attic and put that tiara back on her head and take herself off to the Texas Hair Ball like the Queen that she truly is? Think on it, Beulah; can't you just see Maude walking tall and shining like a rose while people stand aside to let her pass while they look on with pure amazement and speechless adulation? Gives an old woman like me a shiver clear up my spine just thinking on it. Will you help me make my dream come true? Maude's face put on a few years, it's true. Put on some pounds, too. But nothing a big tube of Max Factor pancake makeup, a good old fashioned Merry Widow, and a sturdy buttonhook can't handle. As for the rest, I know that between you and me and Hattie down at the beauty parlor and day-care center we can get Maude fixed up good enough to pass in them soft lights they use at all them fancy parties down in Houston. I don't got to tell you that they use them lights purely out of consideration of all them women who got them little scars behind their ears that are holding up their jaws and keeping their chins from sagging. Them scars show up real bad unless the lights just right, don't you know. So Beulah Mae, you just pack up your bag and get on down here and help me get cousin Maude out of the attic. And bring that remedy you found to cure a balding head of hair, cause Maude's hair has gotten a little sparse on top where them spikes done stuck her. Cousin DeDe/Dede, dreaming of seeing Maude as the Belle of the Texas Hair Ball.