One minute writer: Texture

Woollen weave in your jacket and your hat, always a hat. Comfort and warmth that protected me when I was young. Close my eyes and the touch of tweed can still conjure a smell of outdoors and green and freshly dug earth and dogs and oil paint and pipe tobacco and soft Yorkshire air.

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I still miss my dad. 
For One Minute Writer

FFF55. More NaNo. Meet Bill

Sorry to keep throwing bits of my NaNo novel at you - but it's rather time consuming at the moment.
Here's another of the cast from the Sea View Hotel.

He dressed casually and his general impression suggested tweed. His outfits gave off a sort of browny-green aura, as if he had been carved from a part of the landscape, and they had the kind of texture that conjured up pictures of moorland and bracken. Sometimes I swear I could hear grouse calling around him.

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It's the usual Friday challenge for the G-Man. Go visit him to see more!