I've worn a hole in the sole of my shoe. This is news? you might ask. It is. I like to wear holes in my sweaters before the moths get to them, wear shirts until the collars are threadbare, reduce my scarves to shreds, rub buttons down to nubs, wear silver off the plate, gold off the rims, break shoelaces, burst hat brims, walk the finish off the floors, leave grooves in the cabinet doors. The kettle is battered, the threshold dips. Evidence: I was here. There's not a drop left in the bottle.
It's so funny to read this because I recently took a digital picture of my shoes from the track, miserable messes, that I want to use to jump off from in talking about wanting to keep my father's sneakers after he died. But I didn't. Anyway, my photographs were in sun, so I have to redo them...
ReplyDeleteI like your shoes..
and think there are a few drops in the bottle...add water..
xxo
Hi Miriam - I keep coming back! Love your way of engaging with the world. And you've just told a bit of my own story here... Puddles don't stay on the outside of my favourite boots these days. I don't want a new pair - will have these ones re-soled.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to meet you some day. I'd bring a fine bottle of NZ red - or perhaps one of our delicious black beers.
Much Aroha to you
a wonderful post. i love worn things, have difficulty wearing something new, will put it away to "age"...keep everything (dont i tho, after just moving, i realize too well...!)
ReplyDeleteI patched the hole with some duct tape and wear the shoes again. Good to hear from you all!
ReplyDeleteI have a fabulous doublebreasted overcoat inherited from my uncle. He bought it in 1936 at Leopold Morse (long gone) in Boston. It's a treasure that has decades left. But I turn virtue to vice by never throwing anything away.
ReplyDeleteThe duct tape patch on the sole of my shoe is holding up fine as is your 1936 overcoat. 1936! Yet some things should get tossed, right?
ReplyDeleteYou are so wise.
ReplyDelete