bogeyandruby

Random stuff, reflections on the meaning of life and death, humour, self-deprecation, a bit of bad poetry.

My husband was collecting hat pics this past week-end to add to the recording of a song he wrote. As a rule, my head is also too big for hats. The great Canadian toque invariably rides up my head and ends up looking like the tip of a condom. And then there is the dreaded hat head which means I have to keep my hair covered until I wash it again. I do however wear many symbolic hats. And more often than not, I end up following a slow-poke “hat” (older person wearing a hat, driving an 8 cylinder car) on my home care route. How about you? Hat person or not?

Click on the video to enjoy the song and the array of hats worn by friends and family.

Vignettes and Bagatelles

I met up several years ago with my good friend Terry to catch up and just enjoy each other’s company over a cup of tea. As we settled in to our seats he asked me how things were going? At the time my life was seemingly spinning out of control. I had a mother who was fading away and who lived several hours away. I had a teenage daughter who was struggling with life, another teenage daughter who wasn’t, but felt neglected. My job was stressful, and my boss was Narcissistic. My marriage was straining (actually failing) and my art was suffering. I said; “I wake up and put on my Dad hat, I drive to work and put on my teacher hat, I come home and put on my husband hat, there were many more hats, but you get the idea. He said “Sounds like you are wearing too…

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