Boots, boots, boots.

Boots, boots, boots...

My fabulous boots arrived.  Oh, wait, you thought that was the end of the story, wrong-a-roonie!

While Fisherman and I were home over the Christmas break, he warned (cajoled, poked, prodded, harangued) me to get some "real shoes".  Fisherman and I have been talking about my fascination with shoes almost since our first date.  Men, in general, do not have an clue about the importance of shoes and the love we have with their beauty.

I know Fisherman loves me and only wants me to be safe here in this harsh, unforgiving climate and I realize completely his heart was most assuredly in the right place.  We proceeded to look at a plethora of "man-looking" boots, ugly stomping things, and downright pitiful excuses for shoes.    Bottom line, ugly shoes, "ain't nobody got time fo' that" I would not concede.

The VERY first few days back we had a storm followed immediately by melting rain and insane wind (we're talking 120mph) further followed by freezing rain.  All of which turned the island into one giant ice-rink.  Fisherman is far too gentlemanly for an "I told you so", but I almost broke my neck trying to make it from our front door to the driveway.  After some intense words exchanged between Fisherman and I (not gonna lie, some pouting ensued) but by the end of the day and more than a few dicey icey moments I ordered some boots on Amazon.  I think they meet-in-the-middle of providing stability for the balance-challenged and cute-enough to wear style.

Lesson learned.

Love,

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