By: Blonde Two
Blogging about chilly sleeping yesterday got me thinking about hats that I have known and loved. Let me share one with you:
On a trip to Iceland a few years ago (think volcanoes not prawn rings), I failed to find a “Mum’s Been to Iceland” t-shirt and turned my attention to hat hunting. I wanted an authentic, prickly wool, ear covering, braid to knot under your chin hat that had been grown, spun and knitted by the light of the Aurora Borealis. We found it and I excitedly wore it home only to find out that it had, it fact been knitted in Nepal.
The Icelandic/Nepalese hat served me well and travelled with me to all sorts of exotic locations; North Wales, Scotland, New Zealand and even Cornwall. Being wool, it soaked up all the rain but still kept me warm. I could wear it in my sleeping bag tied on by the braids and still wake up with it more or less in the right place in the morning. In short, my hat and I became very attached to each other.
Which is why, last summer, I was very cross with myself to find that I had left it next to a rather rotten banana in my rucksack. Did you know that bananas stain? I do now and I also know that it is impossible to get banana stain out by hand washing. Being Blonde, at this stage, I committed woollen hat murder and put my old favourite in the washing machine. It is now the right size for Harry our Jack Russell (very sad face). But guess where it lives – that’s right, this sentimental blonde keeps it in her rucksack still. Silly to carry extra weight and I am glad my spare kit was not under too much scrutiny during my recent WGL assessment but who knows when you might meet a hypothermic terrier on Dartmoor!