A yearning for times gone by?
Honestly, I must be dilly the way I refuse to throw away old shoes. Really, old shoes full of dents, wear and tear not to mention the aroma aquired throughout the summers.
In case you might be thinking that I have one of those organized shoe closets let me put your mind at ease. The full extent of my shoe storage are a couple of dusty old shelves in the delightfully termed ' Sommerküche. ' A little cottage on our property that has morphed into storage central and faces de-cluttering only during leap year.
Quite ingenious to put all the unwanted possessions out to pasture together awaiting that infamous rainy day. Out of sight, out of mind. Well, I ventured in there earlier today, equipped with brown bags ( akin to a rubbish bin ) and good intentions.
Isn't it funny how esoteric we all become once we pick up an old shoe, book or game. Images of good times had flit through the mind bound ruthlessly with a ribbon of time. Time had, time gone but hopefully not time wasted.
Old shoes, shoes that are or rather were practical should be given the boot once the sole has left, but stubbornly I find reasons to keep them. A game of what if? makes it darn near impossible to discard these shoes. Well, today I've given a pair of old running shoes an upgrade in living space...they've found a place inside our house, mingling with a friendly bunch of our current shoes. One step at a time!
Biggi
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