One of the neatest finds at my grandparents', probably after her wedding dress and veil, was this little hat box tucked in the corner of a shelf, long forgotten. When I opened it up, I caught my breath. I don't even know when my grandmother would have bought this, but I don't think women have worn hats like this since at least the '50s or '60s, am I right?


I'm 99% sure it's real fur, though I don't know what kind. It is still very soft, and I would think that if it were fake it wouldn't have retained that. I don't even care though, I just think it is so cute and reminds me of how classy my grandmother always was. I love that it still has hair pins attached to it, which is how she would have kept it just so on her head. I can't even figure out how it would have been worn, either. Women typically had the more cropped haircuts in those days, so it was probably worn back more on the crown of the head. I love it because it reminds me of I Love Lucy.

That little hat box on my dresser is, to me, a picture of simpler times. Or at least seemingly simpler. I have recently begun reading Laura Bush's book, Spoken from the Heart. I don't care what side of the aisle you are on, it is an excellent read and is not political. She speaks of her childhood, which was very simple in the post-war days. I suppose that because of my grandparents' deaths, I'm finding myself regretting that I didn't ask more questions about the Depression, World War II, and the years after. I've developed a renewed fascination with those years.

Life was blissful for many after the war, I'm finding out. Marriages and families could finally begin for so many. I believe the reason my grandparents' love was as strong as it was can partially be attributed to their four-year wait for marriage during the war, writing letters back and forth all that time. And although I'm sure not all stories turned out so happily, I think that it was that way for many. I think when people returned to "normal" life after the war, they lived very privately, closely-knit with their own family and friends. The simple American life that people now often make fun of in the '40s and '50s with the nuclear family. But I honestly believe that it truly was that way for a time.

Ah, well, here I go, dwelling on the past, and all because of a hat. I go back to work tomorrow for the first time since coming back. I'm not especially looking forward to it. Why does it seem that no matter how good or long of a break I get, I'm never ready to go back?