Walking on Thin Ice


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David the fabulous shoe repair man has once again added special soles and rubber heels to my gorgeous red sandals in preparation for the sun and as a respite from the slush. It was a very close call the last time I avoided a swan dive to the cement. David is sensible. I am less so. He thinks about safety. I lament the fact that I am forced to forego beauty for practicality.

What’s the big deal? Accept the fact that winter is something to get through, or is it? Another transition? Why the annual tug-of-war, knowing full well that the choice is dry feet in ugly shoes or wet and salt-damaged shoes that will need full-scale rehabilitation post-season?

Lest you think I am scampering about in full summer attire, think otherwise. I am not that foolhardy. No, this struggle is strictly a shoe thing, an ongoing battle with the elements and the limitations it places on my choices.

By next year I will have a plan in place that does not require relocating to warmer climes, although that sounds very appealing. It may require a larger purse or even a support group of others weary of winter. Come to think of it, a new purse could be just the ticket out of “Shoe Affective Disorder.”

© 2015 Maureen Weisner

#winterwear #NewEngland #boots #seasonal #transition #shoes

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