I've been silently bitching (a departure for me, the silently part, I mean) about not being able to wear my old shoes with my new orthotics so I was sitting on the edge of the bed glaring at my white tennis shoes wanting to wear different shoes, brown shoes today, when I caught sight of the little pile of removed insoles from the shoes I have been wearing. *head slap* I removed the insoles from the new butt-shaper shoes and replaced them with the orthotics so what's stopping me from removing the insoles from ALL my shoes? Not a damned thing. What a maroon I can be sometimes. Yesterday I bailed our granddog Porter out of the kennel and took her on a walk along the Fox River Trail with my friend Skully and her dog Maggie. Porter wanted to run but we're not running women so for the beginning of the walk (half a mile of the 2 mile total) she just about pulled my arm out of its socket, then I got smart and shortened the leash and started to teach her to heel. (we need a choke collar to make the lessons a bit more effective) She did okay learning a new concept but I suspect our walks will be "challenging" for a while. She's young and energetic and needs a lot of walking. DS & DIL1 work a lot and aren't able to walk her as much as she'd like so, even though I'm not a pet person, I volunteered to take her along when I walk twice a week. Durwood goes over to their house in the afternoons and takes her out for a potty break in their backyard so she gets a bit of exercise then. Too bad Durwood can't take her on long walks; he used to train dogs and would have her walking at heel in no time.
September 18--Provincial Rome, Wing Brooch. Sara's tongue poked out between her lips as she worked the pin into her lapel and back out. The silver catch was tricky. She had to look in the mirror to get it closed. The brooch looked subdued and elegant, and the liked the irregularity of the stones set in gold. They were carnelians; one dark oxblood red and the other three a clearer red. Pete had given her the brooch after his last trip to Rome, he said it was a copy of some ancient one. She marveled at the skill of the artisan who made it look like it had just come from an archaeological dig and been hastily polished.
You don't think Pete stole that, do you? You can't tell I've been reading murder mysteries involving a reformed art forger, right? I'm off into the drizzle to keep the world save from scuba diving in my brown shoes and mismatched socks.