The world from my window

After our first foray into  Bridport Hat Festival , at which Mr Grigg and I rather boringly wore our trusty Panamas purchased from a little shop in the delightful small town of Salento, high in the Colombian Andes, it's now time to put on our thinking caps. In 2019, we need a mass entry from Lush Places that really captures the spirit of our lively little community. We've managed to miss Bridport's wonderful celebration of all things hats ever since it began nine years ago. But next year, we'll delay our holiday not only for the Melplash Show (my favourite day of the West Dorset year) but also the hat festival. On Saturday, we ventured into my kind of town, found a place to park and wandered up the street. Everyone, but everyone, was wearing hats. Even the dogs. There were market stall holders in hats. Siblings in hats. Friends in hats. If you weren't wearing a hat, you stood out like a naked, sore thumb. There were...