a new pair of warm winter boots were under the Christmas tree with my name on them this year...
Once upon a time I was a newlywed. Way back then we had little extra income (kind of like NOW). One Christmas, somehow, my darling husband purchased for me a pair of warm winter boots. They were clunky and manly looking but, heh, I had cold feet ALL the time and he thought I looked hot in them so it was a 'happily ever after' kind of gift.
As we moved the boots were used in some locations (Chicago, Boise, Sweden, Utah) and stored in others (namely, TEXAS and also AFRICA). They were reliable. I could wear them without my socks on and my feet were still warm. I learned how to drive in them. I loved those boots.
On our finally move to Texas, the boots were put in a box. Then one day, in Texas, there was an ice storm. A snowy ice storm. I went looking for the boots.
I found them, only guess what? one of my children, way back in Utah (before AFRICA) one of my children (aka MOLLY) who loved to sneak butter out of the fridge and eat it by the stick, apparantley put a stick of butter, wrapped in its wax packaging, in my boot. It had been stored in the box that way. When I pulled my boots out of the box, the stick of butter was still in tact.
But my boot was the wrong color. Oiled over time. and it was gross.
This year, thankfully, my darling scraped together the means to replace the oily, buttery boots. And it is another 'happily ever after' kind of gift. I've worn them with pencil skirts and wool tights. I've worn them barefoot in my jammies to go out and shovel the walks. I love my new boots. And I hide them in a special location so they will remain untouched by sneaky toddlers who eat butter in the closet...Merry Christmas to me!
(no butter was used in the making of this blog post.)
As we moved the boots were used in some locations (Chicago, Boise, Sweden, Utah) and stored in others (namely, TEXAS and also AFRICA). They were reliable. I could wear them without my socks on and my feet were still warm. I learned how to drive in them. I loved those boots.
On our finally move to Texas, the boots were put in a box. Then one day, in Texas, there was an ice storm. A snowy ice storm. I went looking for the boots.
I found them, only guess what? one of my children, way back in Utah (before AFRICA) one of my children (aka MOLLY) who loved to sneak butter out of the fridge and eat it by the stick, apparantley put a stick of butter, wrapped in its wax packaging, in my boot. It had been stored in the box that way. When I pulled my boots out of the box, the stick of butter was still in tact.
But my boot was the wrong color. Oiled over time. and it was gross.
This year, thankfully, my darling scraped together the means to replace the oily, buttery boots. And it is another 'happily ever after' kind of gift. I've worn them with pencil skirts and wool tights. I've worn them barefoot in my jammies to go out and shovel the walks. I love my new boots. And I hide them in a special location so they will remain untouched by sneaky toddlers who eat butter in the closet...Merry Christmas to me!
(no butter was used in the making of this blog post.)
2 comments:
Dad is out of town and I can not sleep so I got caught up with your blog. You do a beautiful job of writing my girl! I enjoyed them all and was touched by all but I an so grateful to have laughed out loud at the butter boot post! Thank you for the laugh...I needed it tonight. And I will never forget this story of the butter boots!
PS If you have a moment you might up date your "about Me" entry on your blog...you live in Utah again, and I am so grateful!
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