Monday, July 27, 2015

Tennis shoes...

...in immaculate condition, soles barely marred, thick white laces neatly strung through the eyelets. Waiting at the back of the cupboard as I rummaged for suitable footwear for the John Paul II Walk to Walsingham.  I tried them on, walked about the house. They were too flat, no rise at all in the heel. Still, perhaps the right thing to do would be to wear them today and walk about a bit in them?   Found a comfortable pair of socks, the ones airlines give you on overnight flights. As I left the house I just knew I was one of those little-old-ladies-in-tennis-shoes who attend Catholic events looking fervent...oh dear.

I'd taken along some other shoes, just in case. It didn't take me long to remove the tennis shoes and place them in a useful receptacle designed for things you do not want and cannot use. Put on my comfortable brown leather shoes with good heels and felt much better. Pity about the purple sox.

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