i've always had an aversion to shoes. i always kind of chalked up to being a bit of a hillbilly. my mother in law used to call me one of those wild ass barefoot girls. You know the type. And, i fit the bill when i was a little younger. i drove a great big truck, drank my liquor out of the bottle, got in fist fights, loved to flatfoot, and ran around with a bunch of guys recently released from jail or prison. Redneck deluxe minus the racism.
But... maybe that wasn't it. Maybe it was this lovely reindeer game i got back last night. *sigh*
The little black patent leather shoes were gorgeous. And, i had to wear them to go to church with Aunt Sarah. But, i hated them. They had little straight pins driven into the sole of the shoe in several places. Just in far enough to prick my feet with every single step i took. By Sunday nights my tights would be nothing but bloody rags and every nice thing my Aunt Sarah tried to do for me was spoiled by the pain in my feet. One of my earliest memories is of shrieking as my uncle approached me with those shoes. i tried to hide behind my aunt but of course they thought i was just being obstinate. She caught me and they wrestled me into the horrible shoes. And behind them, Granddaddy smiled at me.
