Shovelin' Shoes

I'm not sure when my fascination/obsession with shoes began. (OK, OK.. with hats and bags and scarves as well!... But, I confess, I do love the 'put together' look -- even though there are lots of times I'd rather just be in the 'scruffs'.)

As a youngster I had an ongoing three pair of shoes. The black & white saddle shoes for school, a pair of non-school play shoes, and one pair of dress-ups. The beginning of the school year meant new saddle shoes, usually purchased from the Jewish shoe merchant in town (I mention he was Jewish as the town was largely Catholic,,, but folks went to him and he made a nice living by providing a wonderful product -- great school shoes. The Catholic shoe merchant, on the other hand, was not so terrific -- and we rarely went there.)

Dress shoes meant a trip to Philadelphia with Mom. She always stressed the importance of getting good and properly fitted shoes so you didn't suffer later in life. (And Mom LOVED Andrew Geller shoes.) Since we women (my sisters and mom) were blessed/cursed with having long and narrow feet, it was not easy to always find shoes. So, Wanamaker's in Philadelphia became the 'shoe' spot. The salesmen were wonderfully trained and always took great care with measuring each foot, and bringing out appropriate selections. [ I have no doubt that the cost of the shoes we had to buy -- because of the size-- also contributed to their 'demeanor'. ] And, during some of my growing years, there had to be more than one trip to Philadelphia.

When the new dress shoes came home, they were immediately polished and taken to the shoe repair and 'cleated'. Putting little cleats on the tips of the toes and the heels, saved on the wear and tear, and hence needed repair of the shoes. Dress shoes were polished after each wearing; the saddle shoes were cleaned and polished each night, for we would never go to school with scuff marks. For shame! As Dad always said, "You can tell a man's character by the shine on his shoes." I remember an aunt (not a blood relative, but a close friend of Mom's) who had driving slippers in her car. She would wear her dress shoes from the house to the car, take them off in the car, put them in shoe bags, put on her slippers and drive to her destination ....and then reverse the shoe process. Her feet looked impeccable -- always!

By college time, again the shoe selection was limited -- basic loafers for everyday and some heels for the special times.

When I started to teach, the shoe bug had started to take hold. There simply had to be shoes to match the outfits! One of my high school friends took me to Philadelphia and introduced me to a wonderful Jewish owned shoe store on South Street in Philadelphia. Closed on Saturday, but open on Sunday -- if you were the first customer -- boy could you get deals!

Living near DC was another great 'shoe find' for the hard-to-fit- foot... but the grandest place of all was Dallas! Near the Clothing MART, was a hugh factory outlet store with rows and rows and rows of shoes -- every size, shape and color -- at simply great prices. and if that were not enough, there was a specialty store which carried only shoes from size 9 on up -- in every width. It was heaven.

Reality hit when I moved to Florida. Over the years most of the grand shoes of the past were lost or put out to pasture and the extra resources just weren't available to do the shoe replacements -- at least not with the GOOD shoes. The FASHIONISTA cravings were still hanging on, however... and so the hunt began: to find shoes at truly bargain prices... Goodwill, The Salvation Army, consignment shops and yard sales were now fair hunting grounds -- not to mention when discount stores had their slashing 75% off sales. The trade-off was the fit -- no longer could my long/narrow foot hope to be coddled as in years past... but that was OK I told myself, deceived myself....until I had a mountain of shoes that could only be worn for part of a day -- before the knee, back or leg pains kicked in.

So, the purge began... and this week a trash bag full of shoes made its departure! There's more to go -- but a girl can only take so much shock at one time. Besides, the scarves, hats and handbags are demanding equal time!

Oh, pain.

De-Hoarding

2007 has been interesting, to put it mildly. The reality of my age, cost of living, projected life span, necessities to exist... are in sharper focus than ever before.

Previous attempts to 'get a grip', to 'down size' have met with great resistance -- purely psychological, I'm sure. and the efforts at looking at those psycho motivators are non too comfortable. Lots of books and articles have been devoured. But the 4 hour work week -- recommended by son # 1 really got me going.

My hoard didn't arrive overnight. It's a natural tendency with me, but the absence of physical and emotional stamina, to keep on top of things, over the past years allowed a monster to develop. And, the 'collections' and attendant mess were great insulators -- you can't very well invite people over when everything is cluttered.

Back to the kicker -- the 4 hour work week had me look at my body clutter first. Nope, I wasn't at all happy with the excess weight and slow metabolism/lack of energy .. and it was time for me to stop hiding behind the cancer excuse .."put the weight on after chemo; can't get it off'. I decided to follow the book's recommendations -- all of which I knew would work for me and my body type (and just HOW did I know you may wonder -- that's for another time!).

Now, I'm 30 lbs. lighter and have loads more energy! so the fear of tackling projects in the house and tiring before they're finished is slowly diminshing. Yes, I still tire more than I like and have to stop when I don't want... but that's OK... each day I'm getting stronger and things are happening... which helps to keep the motivatin going.

This weekend the west wing/spare bedroom mattress & box spring got hauled out to the curb. ... which brings the big discard total to: queen size bed from my bedroom -- gone; love seat from parents house -- gone; huge sofa from parents -- moved to spa room (en route to gone?); three old printers -- gone; big ugly PC - gone; cash register --gone....then there's the trash cans full of "stuff." And, last weekend the old refrigerator and five huge bookshelves ( from my sister's closed bookstore) found a new home at St. Jude's parish!

It also feels good to know that each Tuesday and Friday I'm helping the City of Sarasota trash collectors keep their jobs!

Saga updates to continue!