I know I look good coming and going. The hat? I made it in a flash, with this pattern.
Easy-peasy, as my pa would say. But not fancy-schmancy as he would also remark. And - not department-store pricey either. My pa's the kind of guy who's tight with his money. Keeps all the cash in a coffee can underneath his bed. Depression-era mentality, which I guess I inherited. I'm always afraid I'm going to run out of money and end up on the streets like those bums you sometimes see lingering outside those rickety West Loop hotels. So that's why I'm handy with the needle. I'm always making something - particularly hats. I want to look lovely, and the boys seem to like 'em. I swear, I've been asked out on more dates because of my hats. I just might open a hat shop, but I wonder how I'd do. Not as many gals wear hats as they did 5-10 years ago. Sometimes not even to church, which I find particularly shocking. What would our Lord think? I've got a hat or at least a veil in my purse. As far as careers go, it's either millinery or baby-making. I'd really like get married, and live in one of those new houses they're starting to build outside of Chicago. Imagine - we could have a yard for the children to run around in! Here the little ones just play on the sidewalks and streets. I just worry about those automobiles. I know I'm going sound fuddy-duddy saying this, but young fellas are driving faster and faster in their souped-up Model Fords. All it takes for an accident is for a child to drop a ball that flies out to the road where there's an oncoming vehicle. Golly, I don't want to think about it, but they're ought to be a law! Until then I'm moving out when my honey gets home...