I have been taking a walk up the uneven driveway every day. Four walks, really, because I risk ligaments and menisci to trek that treacherous trail four times. The weather has taken a sharp wintery turn. Yesterday it was 25 degrees, but felt like 20. To the weather site I check. To ME it felt warmer than the day before. That's because Hick gave me a hat to wear.
Before you go all goo-goo eyed with emotion over Hick making a special trip to an award-winning hatmaker to fork over his Goodwill money stash for a custom hat to encase Val's precious brain...let the record show that Hick grabbed a hat from The Pony's room that he had come across while
"It's just so cold out there lately. I can't even feel my face when I come in. My hands won't stay warm, even up in my sleeves. I have on a shirt, a sweatshirt, and that flannel jacket, but when I come in and try to warm my hands by putting them on the skin of my belly, even my fat layer is like ice! I need a sock cap. That will hold in my heat."
"Oh. I'll get you one to wear tomorrow."
Hick disappeared into The Pony's room. I went to the kitchen to check on his supper. Less than a minute later, Hick was rushing through the kitchen, hunched over something he held in both hands. He dashed out the kitchen door, slamming it behind him. And as fast as he was gone, he was back.
"There. There's you a hat."
He laid this on the kitchen table.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing's wrong with it. I found it in The Pony's room when I was cleaning it."
"What was in it? I saw you run outside to dump something out of it! It wasn't baby mice, was it? Like in your coverall pockets over in the BARn?"
"No. It was just dust. I took it to shake the dust out of it."
A likely story. He was moving might fast for dust.
Let the record show that it's not our kitchen table in that picture. I took the picture today, out on the corner of the back porch deck. Let the record further show that I wore that hat yesterday, and it kept my noggin (and the rest of my appendages) toasty warm. Warmer. Like rubbing my hands together in front of a nuclear blast.
Just a couple of problems here. I was not hunting in the deep woods at the height of deer season. I was quite a spectacle for people driving up the gravel road while I was walking. This hat was youth size. It had to be pulled way down to almost cover my ears, even unrolling part of that flap Hick had kindly folded for me. AND it was inside out. Which I just discovered when taking the picture.
I'm pretty sure he meant well, but I will not be recommending Hick as a stylist for your cold-weather wardrobe.