Tag Archives: shoes

I Am Purging

I cleaned out my closet. I have a garbage pile and a Goodwill pile and a consignment pile. 

AND because I did this, I have had a miracle. A blessing. A wonderful occurrence.

I found a pair of Doc Martins!   

 
And I refound my slippers. 

  

See?  When you do good, you receive good. 

It’s a Horrid Winter Where Is the Sun And Why is Melting Snow So Depressing Day Miracle. 

(Those are more rare than you’d think.)

(And something even more rare:  I’m giving away 4 pairs of shoes. I should be receiving an over abundance of blessings for this sacrifice.)

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The Elk Shoes

Photo on 11-6-15 at 4.08 PMThis is what the shoe would look like if I was holding it while wearing a coat, scuba diving.

Where Have I Been?

I have a lot to catch you up on.  My family and I went to Honduras and I went to a writing conference where I learned Ned Stark is NOT Tony Stark’s dad.  But the reason I have not been here lately is (laziness but let’s not be honest about this) due to a traumatic event in my life.

That's an elk hoof.  or foot.  No longer part of the elk.  And that's my kitchen floor.

That’s an elk hoof. or foot. No longer part of the elk. And that’s my kitchen floor.

My husband shot an elk.  Not a big deal.  But then when my son asked if they could bring home a leg for the dog, my husband said, “sure.”

While everyone was gone, the dog brought it into my house and dragged it around.  (Once you bring an elk leg home, the house is no longer yours.)

I screamed.  I locked myself in my room with Oreos.  But the side door was open and the dog brought the elk hoof INTO MY ROOM.

I called a friend’s husband to come remove it, but once he got on the phone, I felt too proud to ask him to come over to move the hoof 2 feet to the porch.  I made him stay on the line as I kicked it out the door, however.  And when the skin wrapped around my ankle, I screamed.

But it was out of the house.

I thanked Chad for being there for me and then I hung up the phone.  Only for the stupid, yet fast, dog to bring it back inside the house but this time to the door of my bedroom.  I quickly shut all doors leading out of my bedroom and waited until my 8 year old got home so he could take care of it.

My husband posted on Facebook how dead he was and the majority suggested he buy me a pair of shoes.

As luck would have it, I had a new pair that I was saving as a reward for something.  (I buy myself rewards before I figure out how I’m earning them because I’m more motivated to do something- anything- then.)

They were incredibly expensive shoes (for me.  Not Jimmy Choo expensive.  But more than Nordstrom Rack.)  I was saving them for something big.

But I’ve decided to listen to the people and wear them as a reward for battling an elk hoof and coming out alive.

That elk has ended up being the most expensive chew toy my dog has ever had.

(Although you may think I would be willing to go through this again for another pair of shoes, you would be wrong.  I would much rather earn them by finishing a manuscript or running a half marathon.  Or getting a minimum wage job and saving up.)

The shoes deserve their own web page so expect to see them soon.

An Update on my Foot

I am doing this:

IMG_3684When I should be doing this:

My friend sent me this photo. I have no idea from where but if you know the original source, I'd like to be their friend.

My friend sent me this photo. I have no idea from where but if you know the original source, I’d like to be their friend.

I am also in physical therapy but that doesn’t make as exciting a picture as acupuncture.  And that is where I am off to right now.

Save an ice pack for me.

(And Don’t Forget to Enter tomorrow to win Fishbowl on Audible. It’s a great book to listen to while driving to Montana.)

Happy Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is a fascinating day. Mothers either love it or hate it. I’ve met very few who do not have at least some opinion about it.

I’m somewhere in between.

I like receiving flowers but don’t want to eat breakfast. I love handmade gifts but sometimes I think there’s a lot of pressure to enjoy the day and be happy and pretend we know we are doing a good job.

I think that’s the part moms don’t like… The wondering if we are doing a good job.

But there’s no way to know. Right now my kids are really good. Yes they drive me nuts and they fight and they leave clothes everywhere and I have driven to my husband’s office to switch cars with him and leave him the car with the kids in it because I couldn’t take it anymore, but essentially they are really good kids.

That doesn’t guarantee they won’t make questionable decisions in the future.   And if they do, that doesn’t necessarily reflect on me as a mother.

I can try my hardest to be a good mom, whatever that may be, and love them and tell them I love them, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make mistakes and they won’t make mistakes and there is no way to measure what a good mom is.

So Mother’s Day can be hard to swallow.

At the same time, the fact we have taken on the role of parent should be respected and honored. It is not an easy job and on average, we are trying as hard as we can to do our best.

We should realize what a monumental task just trying to do right by our children is.  Especially in a time where we are bombarded with messages about just what a “good” parent is.  (I have been heard saying, “She’s a Pinterest Mom” with a mixture of shock, horror, envy and even a little fear in my voice.)

But, on average, we get up and take care of our kids and muddle through the best we know how.

That deserves a nice bouquet of flowers.

Or new shoes.  Lots of new shoes.

This isn't a perfect picture, but some things are better in real life.

I already have these shoes.  So they would not be a good Mother’s Day gift.

But I’d personally prefer a non-child made breakfast. (Unless the child is a pastry genius.)

Oh. And those weird church talks. I could do without those too.

(In the interest of full disclaimer, I am fleeing this Mother’s Day.  It’s just too much this year.  And I think it’s okay when the day can be too much to take a vacation from it.  I’m taking a literal vacation and going to California with two friends for 72 hours.  It’s just 72 hours but I still feel incredibly guilty for leaving my family on Mother’s Day.  Mother’s Guilt.  We need a day to celebrate that too.)

How to Get Marianne to Spend LOTS AND LOTS of Money in Ten Minutes

(Part two in a two part How to Live Like Marianne series.  It generally only takes two steps to be like me.  I lead a very simple life.)

(This DOES NOT, however, include how I choose what shoes to buy or wear.  That’s a 2 month intensive course.)

While I was at my parent’s home, I noticed a red mark suddenly appear on my forehead.  In the middle of my forehead, actually.  It felt slightly different as well and due to previous skin cancer experiences, I knew something wasn’t right.

I made an appointment with my dermatologist and went in.  She diagnosed it as precancerous and she burned it off of my face with some nice Liquid Nitrogen.

But she made a comment that started a slight spending spree.  She said, “How old are you?” with a very confused intonation to her voice.

I responded “42.”  And she said, “Oh.  Okay.  It makes sense you’re getting skin cancer cells then.  I thought you were much younger.”

I FOOLED A DERMATOLOGIST INTO THINKING I’M YOUNGER THAN I AM!

Happy Dance.  Happy Happy Happy Dance.

The next day I went elsewhere to get Botox for my migraines and she was selling medical grade skin care.  So I bought the line.  Because if I can fool a dermatologist with my skin, I’m protecting it and making sure the lines stay away.  Away away away.

Plus it all has sun screen and I need that due to the whole skin cancer problem.

I also bought a new hat.  Due to it’s tag.

I'm a cheap sell.

I’m a cheap sell.

But now I have everything and don’t plan on buying skin care for at least 6 months.

I have to save my money for shoes.

 

Today’s Thought