Posted tagged ‘Saddle shoe’

“Family is just accident…. They don’t mean to get on your nerves. They don’t even mean to be your family, they just are.”

February 5, 2011

I have no excuse for the lateness of the hour. Today is just one of those low energy days that happen every now and then. I have a list of the errands I had hoped to accomplish, but I’ve decided I don’t want to do them today so I’ve most over to tomorrow and a couple to Monday. I will fill the bird feeders, and I have a wash going. That’s about as accomplished as I’ll be.

It’s another gray day, and I’ve lost count of how many we’ve had. Yesterday’s sun now seems a tease from old Mother Nature. I find it difficult to believe it is only the beginning of February. This winter has been so long it should at least be the middle of March.

I have two pairs of saddle shoes, and I have decided to wear them once the sidewalks and streets are cleared of snow. I bought the first pair years ago and forgot about them until after I had bought the second pair for a 50’s party. Being 63 gives me all sorts of privileges including eccentricity, and I suspect that will be people’s reactions to my saddle shoes. Perhaps I’ll even wear stripes and plaids though that may be taking it too far, even for me.

The very young and the old are allowed to do so much more without criticism. People figure the young don’t know any better yet and the old are past caring or may even be forgetful. I am neither but I’m willing to take advantage.

My grandmother walked everywhere. She went grocery shopping and pulled a wire basket behind her to carry her groceries home. She always wore a dress and those clunky heeled shoes. Once a week or maybe every other week, she went to the hairdresser. My grandmother never learned to drive, and I don’t think it mattered. She had a really loud, annoying laugh and punctuated her conversations with it. I never noticed that laugh until I was older then it drove me crazy. My father visited her often and tried to drag one of us along with him, but we never wanted to go. She wasn’t a warm grandmother, but she did write to me when I was in the Peace Corps and always put a dollar bill in those air letters which said they should not contain any enclosures.  A dollar bill doesn’t sound like much, but in Africa in those days it bought a lot. When my grandmother was in her late 80’s, she forgot most things, even my father, her son. At Christmas I’d sit with her in my parents’ living room when she came to dinner. We all took turns sitting with her and keeping her company. She’d chat and ask a lot of questions, some several times, but we’d answer her every time. I think it was then she was the warmest she’d ever been.