Ugly Hat

 

Neil Diamond, and the smell of bread baking.  My hands smell of hard red whole wheat flour, and olive oil.  Three times I let the dough rise, three times I rolled it out, three times I oiled the bowl and let it rise again.  I’ve got little scraps under my fingernails and stuck to the hairs on the back of my hand. 

I need to get a book – so far I’m shooting from the hip – I need some instruction.  I make it cause I like kneading dough, I like peaking at it while it rises, I love eating it with butter and jam, minuets after coming out of the oven.

 

But now I must wait . . .

 

 

 

. . . bread won’t be ready for quite a while.

 

And so I sit, listening to Neil sing, wearing an ugly hat which I thought I had lost – which I had tried to loose.  I’ve heard it said when you let something go, hold it with an open hand – if it should return to you than, indeed it is yours – if not, well then – you never did posses it.  Well a year later this hat – as warm as it is ugly has returned to me.  A large shapeless thing, knit by a well meaning woman with more heart than fashion sense.  She had a booth at a farmers market – I bought the hat, asking her and the friends I was with if it looked good. 

On their recommendations I bought the hat – only to have my faith in the human race rocked when I saw myself in the mirror.

I have never had luck buying hat’s – I never look good in them.  This would not bother me nearly as much but for the fact that so many other people look so good in them.  It is this fact that prevents me from thinking that the whole hatting industry is filled with mean spirited who wish to shame those who would endeavor to wear their products.