SHOES

My shoes are a mess.  Who care’s…well, I do.  I come home through the garage, take off my shoes near the wall, and put on my fuzzy slippers.  The shoes pile up.  And up.

Margot was talking yesterday about how messy her bedroom had gotten.  I reminded her that she had always been messy.  Then I got to thinking about my own messes.  The shoe piles were the worst.

So I went downstairs and sorted them.  Sandals in one cubbyhole, ballet flats in another, and little old lady shoes in the top space.  Then this morning, my thinking activated.  It’s how to ruin a good shoe.  Just jamming these really good shoes on top of one another isn’t a solution.  Part of this is my fault for liking well-made shoes that fit my feet.

We have a few errands to run.  When we get home, I will reevaluate my “jamming the shoes” theory.  Everything in life needs to be looked at more than once including Open Diary.  Not that I don’t like the blog and my old, much loved friends here, but I have 40 some at the first OD fill in blog…on Blogger, and an equal number at the second one, Prosebox.  Not only is this blog difficult for me to format, I have little time to read friends here.  So….I’m rethinking all sorts of things as well as my shoes.

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• Himself:  He’s doing good today.  Working three days this week before doing his part at the SDSR Convention.
• Herself:  Moving slowly and eating carbs.  My stomach is still with me, but my sense of humor returneth.
• Reading:  An older Inspector Gamache mystery.  I have five I haven’t read.
• Watching:  Nearing the end of the Longmire.
• Gratitudes:  That I was able to listen to my daughter last night….vs. opening my mouth.