The arrival of warmer weather has taken your correspondent by surprise, yesterday I was a little overheated in warm winter clothes so this morning decided to find some more seasonal apparel including sandals. I spend much more time at home indoors, my footwear never seems to wear out, I'm not a slave to shoe fashions, fit and comfort come first, so the ancient pair of sandals from the bottom of the wardrobe were worn in the morning when we went out and then again in the afternoon.
After much deliberation and discussion dear Ian and I decided we would buy a Sat Nav, in spite of our love of maps, and our tendency to print out directions from our computer before a journey. Our destinations, like battles, are always on the fold of the map, the centre of the page or the very edges. Of course once we had chosen a Sat Nav it was discovered that the store didn't have the model in stock, however they kindly rang the next nearest branch, just over a mile away, reserved it for us. Whilst these calls were being made it felt as if my heels were sinking into the sandals, upon looking at the sandals, large chunks of the flat heels were either cracked or broken off. Bit like the texture of a bread roll if you know what I mean. It was decided that I would go to the shoe shop to buy new sandals whilst Ian parked the car and purchased the Sat Nav.
Not sure how I made it to the shoe shop, more and more parts of the heels were coming away so it was difficult to walk. Across the cream coloured carpet it looked as if I'd brought in clumps of mud rather than a disintegrating shoe. I have new sandals, the assistant asked me if I was going to wear them then or did I want them in the bag? I was polite, showed her the remains of the pair to be discarded, where upon she said, oh, we'll put these in the bag for you instead! Then, are you going to complain to the manufacturers? Hardly, given their antiquity.
I had photographed the damaged sandals in the shop as I didn't expect to bring them home for disposal.
For any one in SW London, the shoe shop was Johnsons, a small local chain that has been trading a long time. I recall school shoes from their shop both for myself and for our children. Start-Rite anyone?
After all that excitement, and much watering of plants in the front garden, it was pleasant to knit sitting in the garden until the light went. This was the view from my seat ...
Maybe not the best photography, but I have attempted to capture the moment.