In Which Our Heroine Completes Her Transformation into a Cottage Industry

A couple of years ago, while at a wedding where I was a witness, read a poem, kept the groom's mother under control and made the wedding cake, I paused during the reception to hand a friend and his wife a baby sweater I had just knit for their then forthcoming child. Which reminds me, I need to knit something for what is now their next forthcoming child. But I digress. He said to me at the time "You realize, Annie dear, that with Martha Stewart in prison, your career path is now clear."

Oh, how we laughed.

But now I have to go to a friend's wedding here in England. It is going to be one of those big posh English things. They're well off, so the reception is in the "garden" (I used to live on a farm that was smaller than their garden!) and the bride, who is a dear friend, has specifically asked me to wear a great big hat. Sho nuff, honey, it is your big day.

Except that I've got a big head. And that hats seem hard to find. And they're even harder to find if you've got a big head. The answer, it seems is so Anne-oriented that I can only smack myself in the head why I didn't come up with it sooner.

Take a class. Or, in simpler terms, make my own durn hat.

So that's what I'm doing. Class is August 30-31, and I will leave with one and a half hats (I finish the second one at home). They're going to be big, and they're going to be decorated, and no one will be able to get within five feet of me. I am only limited by the dimensions of the boot of the car I'm travelling in, which is a BMW Z4 convertible. It is the convertible bit that makes putting it in the trunk a necessity. Otherwise that hat will get lost down a little country lane at a high rate of speed.

Pictures to come, folks.

Love,
Anne