Just Call Me Two-Shoe

Yesterday was a two-shoe day.

Yes, I broke my two favorite pair of sandals in one day! And I don't even have an exciting story to tell of each's demise. I just took a step, and kaplowie. I blew out the strap of my very comfy cork-soled sandals and so started to put on my Keen sandals and broke off a plastic connector.

Good grief.

So I headed over to the store where I bought my Keens, and asked the very helpful folks there if they could fix my shoe. It took three of them, but, by golly, they did. Yesssss. I was glad not to have to buy another pair. Mine look like this, except they're not blue, and they are much, much, much, larger. And grimier. But dang comfy.

While those three helpful folks wrestled with my shoe in the back room, I browsed around the store. I passed the clearance rack and THERE THEY WERE.

My new favorite sandals. I slipped them on, and......bliss......

I have to take such care to wear good supportive shoes lately or I find myself hobbling around in excruciating foot pain.  And to think that I used to be able to slip on a ninety-nine cent pair of flip flops and be good to go for a week...not anymore. I think I've worn out my poor footsies after all these years.

I wore them around the store marveling at how comfy they were and debated whether or not I should buy them since they are distinctly funky looking and in spite of being on the clearance rack, were not particularly inexpensive. But as I was trying to decide, saw this style name on the shoebox:

Can you see it?

JULIA.

It was a clear indication that I was going to wear those shoes right out of the store.

So I did.

The end.