I don’t have the hat anymore, nor the couch it’s sitting on. But I still have the lap board (one word? two words?), and the Rotring pen. I miss the hat and the couch, but mostly the hat. My head is immense, you could set it on a stand and use it as a globe. Not many hats fit. They mostly slide around on the north pole. They can’t stay still. They’re tectonic plates rearranging the Earth. But that modest and otherwise unremarkable hat was just large enough to make itself comfortable.