|Do you think it's possible my Scottie has good reason to complain about me having "too many" shoes?|
Someday this porch will be bright and shiny. The old wood panelling will be replaced by gyprock and paint; the indoor-outdoor carpet will be torn out and we'll put lino down; if I get my "druthers," there will be a closet for the recycling, and a space for the washer and dryer. I've been making sure Scott has to do his own laundry, just to be sure he gets the message: it's a pain in the behind, going up and down those basement stairs too many times. At this point he still thinks the laundry equipment belongs in the basement.
See those little brown sandals there, in the front? Those were Mom's, and I still see her feet in them.
One of the red pairs are rubber; we've had a lot of rain this week.
The other red pair are a hand-me-down from Cathy and I've been meaning to tell you, Cath, that they make great walking shoes. The leather does allow my feet to breathe (a question we've discussed about shoes), and the soles are thin enough that I can feel the pebbles on the road, which is, to my way of thinking, okay, because they stimulate the healing spots on the bottom of my feet.