Those Boots Weren't Made for Walkin'

Okay, I'll admit. I'm a boot tramp. I like boots. Alot. Just try keeping me out of the western store at the mall; the smell of the leather sucks me right through the door and into the boot isle every time, where I touch, fondle and feel every pair of boots on the shelf.


I ran into someone online who was ever so excited about her honey bun buying her a pair of boots (hint, hint) at this delightful little online boot place: http://bootbay.com/ They can call it boot bay, I call it Boots, Baby! Oh, page after lustful page of the most enticing boots I've ever seen. I'm drooling over the keyboard as I type (City Boy will be happy to find that, I'm sure. But if he would just buy me the boots the salivating issue would clear up, I'm certain.)


I've got a great pair of Ariat boots, rather a roper style, that I use everyday here at the farm (yes, City Boy it is to a farm!) I also made a frivolous little purchase the other day of some shoes with a pointed, western type toe. They've got that little strap that goes around the heel...okay, I love boots but it's never occured to me over the years to figure out what a sling back or a mule shoe was...so bear with me in my ignorance. I just know that I love them!

The greatest Christmas gift I ever received was a pair of pink rubber boots from City Boy a couple years ago. He'd been unemployed and we were so broke; but that pair of boots just lit me up. I put them on and wore them all day. Even wore them to the grocery store the next morning! I loved my pink rubber boots, but eventually wore holes in them and had to put them to rest.

Yup, I love boots. But that's as far as it goes. The rest of the shoe world really does nothing for me.

Darling, on the other hand...that girl is a shoe horse! She's the Imelda Marcos of the Northwest, without a doubt! Ever since her arms were long enough to reach out beyond the edge of her stroller, she'd be snatching shoes off the shelves in every department store we'd walk through. Try convincing the clerk who's accusing you of shoplifting that it really was that sweet, innocent looking two year old that stuffed the shoes into the crevices and folds between herself and the stroller. Trust me, it's a hard sell.

The other day Darling and I were out and she spotted a pair of shiney, lime green sandals. She nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement, clapping her hands, jumping up and down. Something was coming out of her mouth...I'm not sure what, as it was high pitched and sounded rather like a dolphin. I think it was, "CanIcanIcanIcanI"...but I'm not sure. All I know is that I ended up with bright shiney sandals in my bag as I left the store, a pair that I'll never wear (not that I want to!)

Speaking of never being able to wear what comes home in my bag...the other day City Boy took Darling out shopping. They went to the Converse outlet store and bought three pair of shoes; two for Darling and one for me. The pair for me was a lovely red, the reminded me of a pair I had when I was younger. Upon seeing them I was nearly forced into Darling's happy dance, but I restrained myself. Good thing, too, as it would have been wasted. First day I put them on, Darling burst out laughing, telling me that there couldn't possibly be anything in my old fogey wardrobe that would match my lovely red shoes. And you know what? She was right. Dang, I hate when that happens!

So Darling ended up with the ruby red converse. But I still have my boots. I will not let her get her grubby little Imelda hands on my boots!