Sunday, March 13, 2011


This poor guy knows my shame.
I guess that, in my heart, I knew it would happen to me someday.  And, now it has.

Mismatched shoes.  Unintentionally mismatched.  That I did not notice were mismatched until I'd been wearing them more than five hours.

So they were boots.  Both brown.  And that's where the similarities end.  Different heel heights.  Different leg lengths.  Different toe shapes.  Different shades of brown.

I blame the "spring forward," which got me out of bed at a truly ungodly hour to make 9:00 AM (read: 8:00 AM, bio-rhythmically speaking) service before teaching 11:00 AM Sunday School.  I felt ill-used, indeed.  And foolish.  Definitely foolish, because it wasn't until we were at lunch after church that I noticed the discrepancy.

At least no one else seemed to notice.  Or, if they did, they were kind enough not to say anything.

How did I walk around with two lengths of heel without limping?  Amazing.


I was too lazy (and embarrassed) to take pics yesterday; but, today, by popular demand (from my pal Kadie), I am posting pics of the two unrelated boots that I wore yesterday in blissful ignorance.  Yes, it is nigh incredible that I did not notice the heel difference.  I will say that, once I noticed that they were mismatched, all of a sudden I realized that my right leg (the one wearing the lower heel) ached a bit.  I limped until we made it home -- much to the amusement of my husband. 
Little marching (but not "matching") boots.

The view from the top.  Silly, silly me.

Toe-to-toe -- something's not adding up!

Friday, March 04, 2011

Where's MY Support Group?

Women Who Love Honey Nut Cheerios Too Much.

Best. Cereal. Ever. 
(I could eat a box a day, and I only refrain from doing so because I live with other human beings who might look on in horror.)

I'm sick.  I need help.

Words Wanted!

Are you any good at coining pseudo-scientific, Latinish-based words?  Or, maybe you know of ones already in existence that can describe two physical and psychological reactions I frequently experience?

The first is that head-rushing, heart-racing euphoria that comes when I have one or more new books to read.  Also can apply to the general feeling of walking into a bookstore.

The second is that heart-sinking, anxious tinge of depression that I get when I count out the presumed number of my remaining days (which, really, I am probably too optimistic in calculating, because God only knows how much time I have left) and realize how many books I will have left unread at the end of this earthly time.  Also can apply to the general feeling of walking into a bookstore.

A cure for the former condition is not desired.  A cure for the latter is found in my confidence that Jane Austen, C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton are all currently working on new novels and essays just on the other side of the veil (and who knows how many they've already completed?), and that enjoying books is not a pleasure for this world only.  All good things shall come through His grace in His kingdom, and few things are better than really good books. 

Read on, my friends!

Books are hindrances to persisting stupidity. ~Spanish proverb