When I put on my beanie, everybody knows I am off duty.   My other life, full of meetings and calls, trains and planes, or even the more mundane grey and grisly M62 has no place for beanies.   For this life there is my beautiful Harris tweed hat.  

On a Thursday night, the beanie goes on.   And stays on. Thursday night is climbing night, followed by a pint at our local.  This starts three days of beanie wearing.  At Friday morning assembly at school, I am not the only beanie clad mum hunkered down with my coffee, thanking the great one that I have survived the week and am now, officially OFF DUTY.  On the 22nd July, the beanie goes on.  And is physically and mentally removed at the start of September.   During this time, again, I am OFF DUTY.   

It’s a symbol of my state of mind, and a signal to others.   I am thinking about climbing, walking, skiing, taking pictures, drinking coffee, making a fire on the beach.   Do not engage me in conversation about projections, resources or bills, or the shopping.  



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