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A Spring in My Step and a Cure for Boot Envy

March 21, 2011

After what seems like a long, cold snowy winter, I am so ready for spring. I love the sound of the snow melting and the trickle

Flowered Boots

The back view of my flowered boots - Morning Glories Climbing Achilles. This is the ONLY time my boots will be allowed on the table.

of water running down the sidewalks and curbs. As a kid growing up in the country – I loved watching the race of the water as it passed through the culvert under our gravel drive way. We’d float sticks and throw rocks – enjoying the sensation of movement.

I’ve found now (just like then) I like crunching the edges of the snow/ice melt. Those milky white shelves of ice that form from the daily routine of thaw and refreeze. And so this spring I have been especially vigilant at the opportunity to crunch the ice and support the melt.

The melt reminds me of the silly red rain boots that I loathed growing up in the late 60s and early 70s.  They were the floppy red  rubber boots that pulled on over my black Mary Janes and buckled clumsily on the sides just below my knees. Having conservative parents, I think I must have worn boots into May, so my feet wouldn’t get wet, etc. I got teased – mercilessly. So understandably I’ve not been a big fan of boots. I avoid them and snow pants like the plaque (that’s another story for another time.)

In high school and college I was able to sneak by with the “duck” boots – those weren’t so bad teamed with a pair of straight leg red tab Levis. And as an adult, I’ve grown to appreciate the concept of boots.

At the opportunity to spend time on the farm of a friend with horses, I broke down a few years back and bought some plain old green gray Wellies at Fleet Farm. They work great for early season gardening and aren’t really worn that often. Well, not until a friend on Facebook posted some super cute rain boots – rubber boots artistically printed with a lovely design.

Can one contract “boot envy”? But I knew I had a perfectly good, but very bland pair downstairs. And so on Sunday afternoon armed with fabric paint, I cured my boot envy. I’ll admit they are a bit homespun, but they are mine and they still work just fine, crunching they milky ice from the city sidewalks into melty splashy little puddles.

Happy Spring.

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