Close to Nowhere
• For a long time, the late Pop teased me about my shoes, calling me Imelda. She was the first lady of the Philipines — Imelda Marcos — she had over a 1,000 pairs of shoes.
I never had that many, but for years I had at least 100 pair.
I’ve always had closet problems — too much stuff in too little room. I’m a hoarder by nature and it’s just hard to get rid of shoes, etc. For me, anyway.
I’m trying to downsize my fabric, shoe, T-shirt, etc. collections. So far, granddaughter Merideth and I have filled up four black lawn trash bags with shoes and clothes — some that I’ve never worn, some I hadn’t seen in years.
I still have my black and white oxfords. I also have the first pair of shoes I bought with my first paycheck from The South Reporter — almost 30 years ago.
They were the best shoes! Converse, with one side purple, one side green and an orange tongue. They are so ragged and really look like they’ve been worn for 30 years. Mere was going to toss them! I nearly had a heart attack and have tucked them neatly back in my closet.
For the first time in a long time I have less than 50 pairs of shoes. I lost count, but I don’t think I even have 40 pairs. It’s kinda scary.
Growing up, I had my Sunday shoes — usually patent leather Mary Janes (I still own/wear Mary Janes), raggedy tennis shoes to play in and my school shoes — loafers or oxfords. In the summer there were always flip-flops but certainly nothing like the six different pair of flip-flops I now own and wear. And I packed my quilt T-shirts up — the ones from quilt shows in Paducah, Knoxville, Nashville, Chattanooga, etc. They’re getting old and I have to save them.
• It’s hard some days to write an up-beat column. I was almost late to work Monday morning watching the news about the shooting in Las Vegas. I know bad things happen everywhere, but I am so grateful to live in the woods near Holly Springs. It’s such a calm place.
And then when I got to work there was the news about the horrible truck wreck on I-22 (it will always be Hwy. 78 to me). I don’t know much about it except that the pickup truck was so badly burned they can’t tell who owned it.
There’s so much scary in the world now. Really scary. Like in the fifth grade and we had to practice nuclear bonb drills.
Prayer changes things...