I've gone a bit quiet, but that's because I've mostly been out. Rather scarily, photographic evidence exists of my night out in housemate S's cowboy hat (left).
My evening began at a pre-party pub gathering at the bottom of my hill. I strode in the door in my hat (you have to stride, in a hat like that). The people I was meeting all had their hats tucked into their pockets or bags. I was a lone be-hatted figure as I walked up to the bar.
Um, a glass of white wine please, I said to the barman. Large or small? he said. Then he took a step back, looked at me sideways and said 'I don't really need to ask that question, do I?'
I guess my fate for the evening was sealed at that point. Ms E has kindly called it 'very entertaining' but I suspect the truth may be harsher.
joella
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