The Hat

My daughter's a shopper. I'm not. It's boring. There's only just so much you can do with clothes, take the hemline up, take it down, flair the skirt, pencil the skirt. puff the sleeve, pleat the sleeve. I've been through it all, over and over. So I shop in my daughter's Goodwill bag. She buys expensive clothes and I know they'll fit, even though they are several years out of style by the time she discards them. I'll just pretend it's year 2004 again.

I didn't have to scrounge in the bag for the black straw hat. She handed it to me, saying, "I think this will look good on you. " We walked the dogs, rested by the lake and she snapped this picture. When I got home, I decided I looked like Stan Laurel in the hat so I took off the ribbon and soaked the hat in water to reshape it. Then I looked at the picture and decided it looked OK but by that time it looked like an infants floppy sun hat that had been scrunched in a beach bag all day. Oh dear, I'll tell her it was abducted by aliens, taken up in a flying saucer and surgery was performed. No, then she'd think it's time for the burly guy's in white coats to escort me to Happy Dale. Better, yet, I betcha she'll never ask. Whewwww ....... Saved. I'd hate to have her delete me from the Goodwill bag. Perish the thought of going shopping again.