I opened the #GreatBigBoxOfHats. It did not disappoint. It is a time capsule from wee!Sal's life.

First, actual hat boxes! The Eaton's box is a real find as Eaton's went the way of the dodo eons ago. The hatbox belonged to my great gramma, GG Pearl,who would scour the sale racks so she could dress well above her Depression era income. Nana&I bonded over outrageous sale finds.

A hat from Kenya c. 1980s that my other Gramma brought home. Grampa worked for CIDA developing weather stations for airports all over the world. Gramma came to my gr6 class to give a talk on her adventures. Mr.Z, my fave teacher, wore the hat in the demo. We had snax.

Black pillbox hat c. 1990. I wore this on my 1st honeymoon and was wearing it when I met Sig--two weeks after my first honeymoon. He was very patient.

Red velvet brimless hat with shiny embroidered detail. I was wearing this hat the day I proposed to Sig. I bought it at the Festival of Friends in Hamilton ON c. 1995.

Fuzzy purple pillbox hat with attached scarf and a plaid Converse All Stars wool ballcap. The former was a gift from my mom, the latter probably a giveaway from something, a gift from the grunge era.

A real find. The green velvet sash and matching drawstring bag from my highschool prom in 1987. My Gramma made me my dream princess ball gown in deep green satin that looked great with my long red hair. Satin shoes from a bridesmaid dress, c 1996.

And finally, a little brown leather purse containing a mostly empty pack of Lifesavers and a bank slip from June 2000 that shows my entire worldly fortune at $1074.56. This is what I moved across the country with to start my new life.

That brings us to the end of this little tour through the #GreatBigBoxOfHats. I remember so clearly my Gramma in the sewing room, this tiny white-haired lady wrestling with miles and miles of slippery, fraying green satin. No greater love.

There's a photo somewhere of me on the ill-fated honeymoon in the pillbox hat. I'm all alone on the snowy shore of Georgian Bay and the whole great lake is frozen in the act of storming, huge curls of ice waves and the wind blowing my hair sideways. I should have known.

I met the favourite teacher, Mr. Z, at a school reunion years later. We went out for drinks with him. He was so sad, divorced and morose and devastatingly human. Our childhood icons were not meant to have lives. It was a shock. I gave him the Zen chime ball from my necklace.

I proposed to Sig on the beach at Lake Huron, on a windswept autumn day. I gave him a velvet bag of stones painted with "will you marry me?" Today I showed him the hat and he said: "I remember thinking , 'gee I dunno if I'm the marrying kind, but I REALLY LOVE THAT HAT.'"