Staying Home is the Place for Me

 It is my favorite day. A week day off work, with no place I need to be. This is my definition of a Perfect Day.

Working outside my home has taken a toll. First and foremost is leaving the house. Then there has been the learning curve. Add "being on" for 8 hours a day? It's a recipe for exhaustion. Don't get me started about the wardrobe (but here I go anyway). 

Thankfully I have five tops that pass for work attire. 

The staple black pants? I bought a pair for a 90th birthday celebration in 2019. I've gotten my money's worth out of that pair of pants. If I had known the mileage they would get, I would have bought at least two more pair.

The life saver was finding these shoes. Mesh shoe, my orthotics slide right in, slip-on (laces are simply an accessory):

I've worn out a pair; my current pair have lasted the winter and I've got a back up pair in the closet. I honestly believe the shoes were what made all things possible. Socks and bare feet were my previous foot attire. 

I've managed, but the need for a work wardrobe update has been a bridge too far. Rotating my five cool tops has been made easier by adding four winter tops to the mix. Spring is in the air and I wish some magical creature would sneak into my closet and update my wardrobe. I despise clothes shopping.

Man! I really fell off topic. 

The moral to this post is the magic of this day-at-home where I can fall back on my regularly scheduled comfy tops. If only my work wardrobe was so easy ...

My cartoon-character wardrobe with new colors arriving soon!

I do believe we can all learn something from Steve Jobs, who wore the same outfit every day. It reduces decision fatigue and allows one to focus on important tasks at hand.

Point taken. I rest my case.

The High Cost of Comfort

Well, I did it. I invested in my feet today. The high cost of sandals that will support my feet and orthotics tallied a hefty sum of just under $250.00. 

Wow! For a girl who shops for the best bargains on milk, that is a big investment. On the flip side, a few years of savings on my milk deals may have covered the cost. 

I bought a pair of sandals at the same store 11 years ago (I know because the clerk looked it up for me). I checked my financial records and I believe this pair of sandals cost $187.00. Eleven years of usage amortizes the cost to $17.00/year. Not a bad investment all in all.

My only dilemma was that I wished I could buy two different colors but at that cost, one pair was suffice. 

I came home and immediately tallied up my work expenses I have paid for out of pocket. It turns out I spend money without blinking when it comes to keeping the office up and running. This years office expenses exceed the cost of my comfy shoes and I was reimbursed my costs without question.

I can find a million ways to justify my spending. Savings here, cutbacks there, calculating how much something costs over its lifetime, a little nest egg stashed aside for a rainy day all keep my budget balanced.

Side story with a moral and relevant to "all of the above":

When I was young, in love and about to marry, I asked my husband-to-be why he loved me. I knew the answer was going to be an honest one when he took a minute to respond. After some consideration, he replied, "Because you are good with money".

Fast forward to the trying times during our marriage when money and lack of it was at the root of many of our disagreements. My husband would be asking for money we didn't have to spend on items that were never included in any budgeting figures. I would respond with an attitude that probably went far beyond a simple "no" and his retort would be "Just juggle the books ". 

Back to the reason this memory resurfaced:

I have been juggling my finances for as far as I can remember. In fact, it was one of the reasons my husband cited for loving me. Savings, cutbacks and a little nest egg here and there go a long way over time. 

Long story short? The high cost of comfort is well worth the sacrifices made along the way.

True to my form, the new is almost identical to the old. 

Same, same, same.

If I know what I like, why would I want to try anything else?

We All Need a Little Support Now and Then

The top of my foot is sore.

Isn't that about the strangest symptom you've ever heard? I agree. So many worries in the world and the top of my foot is sore.

My first thought was that I should be wearing supportive footwear. 

This mysterious symptom has been getting progressively worse so I consulted with Dr. Google this morning and confirmed my diagnosis.

I don't have supportive indoor shoes so I wrapped my foot in a tension bandage. It felt like a warm hug. Walking became easier. Support was exactly what I needed.

My foot is a metaphor for life:

When we walk through our days feeling a dull ache which may ebb and flow with the distractions of living but is still at the core of our being, we may simply need a little support. Life becomes easier when you succumb to the need to lean on another person. Support may be exactly what you need.

The amount of support is dependent on the day, your situation and own personal needs. 

Too much of a good thing is not necessarily a good thing. Please excuse me while I adjust the tension on my bandaged foot. I may have cut off the circulation to my toes.

Unhappy Feet

As I started to ready myself for my mini-getaway this weekend, I thought I had better pack some good walking shoes. This trip originated because I asked my friend, who is a newly certified personal trainer, if she would like to take on the challenge of being my personal trainer. Thus, our plans were set in motion.

Since that time, I have thought about trying to become more active. 

My handyman donated an exercise bike and left it in the garage for me. Too bad it is too heavy for me to move inside, otherwise I'm sure I would have jumped right on that (NOT!!).

I have researched (once) a good exercise regimen for a beginner. I didn't even get to the videos. The mere act of looking up the information was too exhausting for me.

I thought I should take up walking in the morning in lieu of writing. I want to quit my columns before I do that. The onus of "having to write" keeps me feeling committed to this quiet writing time in the morning.

I have thought a lot of thoughts. But I haven't done a thing. 

I wear out easily these days. I'm quite certain that has a lot to do with the fact that I don't push myself any more. If I'm tired, I quit. If I'm bored, I quit. If I'm frustrated, I quit. I quit before I start something. I have turned into such a quitter.

Why has this happened?

My last noble attempt at physical fitness was taking on a flyer route. I pushed myself, thinking it was for the better good. But I pushed myself in the wrong ways. I carried too many papers at a time because I didn't want to waste time coming back home to reload. I think I compacted the discs in my spine. My back hasn't been the same since the Year of the Flyer Route. Winter was terrible on my thumbs. The repetitive action of always having a paper in each hand seemed to "lock" my thumbs and I now have arthritis in my thumbs. 

I thought my "symptoms" would disappear after I quit that job. It has been three years now and I can still feel the lingering effects.

I used to have a passion for "Zumba". Then I started getting corns on my toes. The only effective way I found to get rid of those corns was to go to a podiatrist. My podiatrist quit and I searched high and low for another one who could accommodate my work schedule. Not only could I not find one, every single place I called had at least a two month waiting list. There was no "squeezing me in" during my summer holiday last year. Needless to say, I booked an appointment well in advance of this year's summer holiday.

When your feet don't work, you are in trouble. So I started babying my feet. These are the only two feet I have and we have a lot more miles to travel.

I quit dancing for many reasons, but the last time I wore my dance shoes was "it". My feet ached before I took my first step on the dance floor. Every single step was pure torture.

I quit exercising for many reasons. Two of them were my feet. Then there was the knee thing that started happening while I was addicted to my WiFit program. Not to mention the shoulder thing that I went to physiotherapy to "fix" and after I did the prescribed exercises wrong, I messed up my neck. It has never fully recovered.

I'm afraid to push my body for fear that I will break it. My body isn't fixing itself the way it used to and it frightens me a little bit. It is a double edged sword. I need to get my body moving and more physically fit, to ensure it lasts until my work here is done. I need to push my limits, but when I have done so in the past I have injured myself in minor ways. 

This has been my excuse for too long now. When I write a letter to my future self, I want to tell her "I hope you jumped on the physical fitness train and got yourself moving again!" I have been too complacent for too long. Enough is enough already.

I found a pair of running shoes from my Zumba days and parked them beside the back door. I will pack up my shoes and take them for a spin. I will talk with my very own Personal Trainer and ask for her advise. "How does a worn out body begin again?"

I stepped into my fiftieth year full of pep, ambition and desire to push my limits. I'm half way through this decade and I feel like half the person I was at the onset. I plan to write a letter to my sixty year old self and tell her what I hope she has accomplished between now and then.

I stopped and took a look at the shoes I have amassed by the back door this morning. This is ridiculous. I have a new and used version of my two pairs of "go to shoes" for all occasions. I have slip on shoes for when I run outside for a minute. I pulled out my sandals that accommodate my orthotics because recently my bunions have been aching at the end of a day in bare feet and sandals. This is what I found: 

Me, the girl who scoffs at those who "need a closet for their shoes" in all the home renovation shows needs her very own "shoe storage system"! 

It's time to get moving again and wear out a pair of shoes for all the right reasons. I hope my feet are up to the challenge. 

Beware of Ill Fitting Shoes

Our pre-nap-time ritual at my house looks something like this:

If you look very closely, you can see my foot and leg squished between the cushion of the couch and all 'my kids' (my other leg is on the floor). Two of the kids sit on me and the third squishes in at the end of the couch. Our Senior Cats loves these cuddlesome moments and you will often find him squished between the cracks of all of our combined bodies and he settles in and soaks up the body heat.

Anyway ... one of these cuddle days consisted of two of the three kids sitting on my lap, without socks. I couldn't help but stare at the perfection of those little toes.

Toes that had not yet been squished into ill-fitting shoes. Toes that had not conformed to a pointed toe shoe. Toes that had not borne the brunt of high heels. Toes that had not run a marathon. These were simple, but happy kid-toes.

I couldn't  help but think of these little bundles of perfection that are born into this world. When they come into our lives, they are little bodies of innocence that have not been expected to conform, fit in, bear the brunt of any life dramas or high expectations. They are perfect in their innocence.

Then life happens. 

We mold them into imperfect human beings and we have high expectations for them to meet. We cajole them to eat and sleep according to what we think is best for them. We dress them up, take them out and expect them to behave in a manner that pleases us. We raise them within our imperfect homes and do our best to bring up 'good citizens' that can take on the world outside of our homes.

Then comes daycare, school, extra-curricular sports and outings, friendships, work, relationships and the list goes on and on. Within each one of these experiences lies the possibility that the 'fit' may not be good. It is human nature to want to be liked and accepted ... so we mold ourselves to fit within uncomfortable people, places and 'things'.

If we are raised within a 'comfortable pair of shoes', we recognize a good fit and that is what we are attracted to and bring into our lives. If our 'shoes' have always been uncomfortable, we don't realize that they were supposed to be comfortable all along.

The perfect beings that we were in the beginning become imperfect. Not because we are not beautiful or smart or successful or un-typical in any way, shape or form. We are not perfect because that is what a human being is. Imperfect. 

When you try to fit into shoes that are not comfortable for you, think of the perfect little toes of small children. Strive to keep those toes comfortable ... in every walk of life.

I am not saying to stop trying on new shoes. Simply beware of those that are still uncomfortable after you give them a fair chance. Perhaps you could try walking barefoot for a while and simply feel your way through.

It is possible to walk comfortably. Even after the damage is done. In fact, one appreciates comfort even more ... after experiencing a lot of discomfort.

These feet have done a lot of walkin'...

Everyone deserves to feel comfortable in every walk of life. Look for comfort in your life. You deserve it!

Rolling Along With Life

Life got a little too serious around here this past while. My head has been full of reflective thoughts and there are more where that came from. But I need to back off for a day and just write ...

My daycare week has been the best! There is no school for the kids this week, which meant I had a 5 year old boy and his 8 year old sister here during the school break. Add two 1-1/2 year old girls; one, 2-1/2 year old boy and you've got a winning combination. There is fun and laughter and activity. But best of all?? There is dancing! I knew something good was happening when this young girl started singing and dancing to some of the songs we really enjoy around here. She has really heightened our dance craze at daycare. It is fun to add music, singing and dancing to a day. Try it sometime. I think you'll like it!!

I found shoes!! Not only shoes that I can dance in ... but shoes that I can wear around the house and they are more comfortable than my bare feet! Yes! More comfortable!! Because I can't wear my orthotics when I don't have shoes on. They are jazz shoes. They are one size bigger than I normally buy; wide in size and they are made out of a pliable leather that is heavenly. And I will be able to dance in them!! Yee haw! Not only that, but if you have tender toes, you should go to store that specializes in all types dancing shoes. The girl that helped me out was full of ideas and suggestions for my bunion and corn, because they run into this all of the time with people who wear ballet 'pointe' shoes. I came home with some 'spacers' which will ease the tenderness where my corns were shaved off last week. My feet are jumping with joy - they feel so good!

Two evenings in a row, all of my daycare kids were picked up before 5:00!! This was a gift that was worth more than money. My glasses broke first thing yesterday morning. I called the place I purchased them to find out the hours, only to find out they closed at 5:30. So ... I was going to have to wait until Saturday to take my glasses in. But thanks to my early pick-ups, I made it there not only before they closed ... but just two days before my one year warranty on my glasses was up. One would hope that they would have waived the rules, if I had made it one day late ... but I will not have to wonder. Because I made it two days before the guarantee expired. My frames will be replaced at no cost and I am very, very pleased about that.

I cancelled the next few weeks of dance lessons, to give my feet a rest. Plus I thought that I would need to wait two to three weeks for my dance shoes to arrive. As it turns out, they had a different color in stock and (because my work day ended so early) I could have made it to class. But I had already cancelled it, so I simply enjoyed the night off. And it felt heavenly. The long weekend was a busy one. I was utterly exhausted on Monday. All I remember about Tuesday night is waking up at 6 p.m. to phone Mom because I knew the rest of the week was accounted for. Wednesday and Friday are committed to flyers. So I honestly feel like I'm playing hooky tonight. It is a 'forbidden' night off. And it feels fantastic.

I may be crazy-busy this upcoming weekend but I just don't want to know about it. Not yet. I told my friend that I could clean her house Saturday mornings. It is very likely that I will have to work at my bookkeeping job this weekend. Then there are those blasted flyers. Oh ... when I get rich and famous, the first thing that is going to go is those flyers. Then again, delivering those flyers is the only exercise I get so I should not be so hasty in wanting them to vanish from my life. Then again, if I was rich and famous, I could hire a personal trainer and it would all work out in the wash.

The best news of all is that I am 'back'. I am rolling with life. The good, the bad and the ugly (my new shoes are sort of ugly). I'm coping. Life felt 'dark'. Very, very dark ... a while ago. I shed some light on the darkness and it quietly went away. No fuss, no muss, no fanfare. Just the way the darkness rolled in ... it rolled out again.

The sun is shining longer every day. Spring is on the horizon. I am busy. I am challenged. I am working. I am not only surviving ... I am starting to thrive once again. It's coming. I can feel it in the air.

There is so much more, that is much deeper than today's inane drivel of words. The world is full of sadness, illness, despair and darkness. I am grateful that my own world is full of light, dancing, comfy shoes and glasses that are smart enough to break before the warranty expires.

Who knows how close we come to those cut-off dates in life? It is nice to 'win' one, every now and again. We are ever conscious of the losses ... but do we really have any idea how many times we have 'won' and not even been aware??

Score One for Zumba

Well? The verdict is in. And ballroom dance shoes are out.

I went to visit my podiatrist last night to find out the answer to my recent foot problems. I knew the answers before I heard them. In fact, I spoon fed them to my foot-specialist.

My feet have been smiling ever since I got my orthotics. From the moment I first wore them, it was love at first sight. It was as if my feet had been waiting their entire life for the shoe inserts of their dreams.

There was no weaning in process necessary. I was conscious of the fact that there could be side effects as my feet got used to them. But there wasn't an inkling of anything but perfection. Right from the moment 'go'.

I used and abused my feet this past summer. I worked in a grocery store where I was moving and on my feet for the entirety of my shift. I chose not to take breaks. There were days when I was on my feet for eight to ten hours. Did my feet complain? Only when I took off my shoes and tried to walk barefoot in the house at the end of my workday. My feet missed their 'support system' - my orthotics.

I started delivering flyers in the fall. I walk approximately 1.5 hours, three days a week. I walk in all conditions. Various terrains. Cement all the way. Do my feet complain? Not until lately ...

I resumed ballroom dancing in January. One lesson in, my feet were not happy campers. Not even when I put them to rest and went to bed. The next day was not a lot better.

Second lesson? Swivels and a Tango class were pure torture. I endured the classes only because there was a severe shortage of women that night. My feet have not yet recovered ...

Did I give up? No way. I went to two more dance classes. I developed corns that made delivering flyers painful. Two hours of dancing in one week became something that (not only the remaining 22 hours of that day ... but) the six days that followed could not repair.

• My 'perscription' after last night's appointment? Wear my orthotics as much as possible. Not only outdoors, but inside. All day. Every day.
• Dance shoes with a heal that absolutely does not exceed 1.5"; preferably 1"

He shaved off my newly acquired corns & callouses, bandaged up my tender toe and sent me on my way. 

The good news? Two hours per week in ballroom dance shoes did not undo the benefits that my orthotics have reaped. He was more than a little pleased with the progress of my bunions and the 'angles' he was aiming to fix with my orthotics. But it is not enough to compensate for the excessive demands that my ballroom dance shoes place upon my tender, tender toes.

So now what? I have eight more dance classes bought and paid for. The only way to fully reap the benefits of those lessons is to find shoes that I can dance in. But do I go to the expense of trying to find the perfect dance shoe for me ... only to discover that I cannot afford the high cost of dancing?

Score "one" for Zumba. I have running shoes that work. I have tried and true evidence that my feet can withstand hours of wear and tear and endurance ... as long as they are safe in the confines of a running shoe that can accomodate my orthotics.

Four hours of dance lessons anyone??

Whatever This Day is to You ... I Wish You 'Happy'!

'Happy Valentine's Day'! Happier 'We-Are-Half-Way-Through-February Day'!! For me? It is 'Happy Feet Day'!

My long awaited podiatrist appointment is tonight.

I get to skip my dance lesson and tend to my tender tootsies instead. I have been counting down the number-of-flyer-deliveries left before my appointment for several weeks now.

Despite what felt like blizzard conditions, as I delivered flyers in snow and wind (32 kph) last night, all I could think of was that I must make it to my out-of-town (a fifteen minute drive) appointment tonight.

Whatever this day is to you ... may it be simply be a happy one. Pamper yourself and give yourself a small gift of whatever-it-is that you need the most.

I am not big on the hype of Valentine's Day. But I am big on making the little things count in life. May you turn this day into whatever kind of day you want it to be ...

Sore Feet, Happy Heart

Oh ... my achin' feet!

I haven't complained much (at all!) about my feet since my miracle foot doctor designed the most awesome orthotics for me last spring. I have felt as though I was walking on air. Well, perhaps that is a bit of an overstatement. But my feet have been more than a little bit happy since this wonderful invention specially designed for my tender tootsies.

Then I started dancing again.

I am not certain that the two are related, but foot pain while I was delivering flyers started very close to the time I resumed my dance lessons. Perhaps my orthotics reached their prime at the same time and need to be adjusted. But the way my feet feel this morning (after two hours in my dance shoes last night)? I am thinking that the dancing is a big part of the issue.

Dancing verses staying at home. Moving verses the hypnotic state I go into in front of the TV. Laughter and spending an evening with people verses the solitude that I so enjoy. Happy heart verses complacent one.

Orthotics for ballroom dance shoes. In my experience, pretty shoes and orthotics do not go together. In fact, I feel about 90 years old when I talk about 'my orthotics'. It just sounds like a word that belongs in an old-person's vocabulary. Spoiler alert! Who the heck do I think I am?? Just look in a mirror, girl! You aren't getting any younger! Plus, age has nothing to do with a person's need for orthotics. I probably should have had them decades ago.

I am one-third of the way through the dance lessons that I have bought and paid for. I have no idea if I will be able to afford to continue at the end of this batch of lessons.

I quit participating in Zumba classes because of my feet. Knowing now, what I didn't know then ... I should have found a way to fix my feet and keep active. Orthotics work in running shoes far better than in ballroom dance shoes. To anyone living outside of my body, the answer seems obvious ...

... but to me? It is the entire dance experience and social aspect in the safety and comfort of a dance studio that I have been going to (off and on) for fifteen years that has my head in the clouds and hoping to find a way to make dancing comfortable (as well as fun).

Practicality verses reality. I have running shoes that work. I have dance shoes that ... don't.

I wonder if they design orthotics to assist a person in walking outside of their comfort zone??

Summer of 2012 ... Week One

As I find myself easing into the summer holiday/work season, I am grateful for many things:

• Feet that work! I have worked four consecutive days where I have been on my feet all day. The only complaint that I had was when I wore sandals the first day. Once I switched back into a fully enclosed shoe with the support that my orthotics needed, my feet felt tired. But not sore. They didn't throb. My bunions were a non-issue. This must be how it feels to have 'normal' feet. I'm lovin' it!! Score another one for my amazing podiatrist and the wonder-orthotics that he has working for me. At this rate, I'll eventually make my way back to the dance studio!
• Last weekend. I'm grateful that I enjoyed the days in a leisurely fashion and spent time with people that matter to me. I didn't know how this week would unfold and I'm glad that I went into Week #1 of my summer work schedule feeling ready to tackle whatever the week would bring.
• A schedule. Job #2 comes with a two-week schedule. Granted, this schedule comes with the caveat. The phone can (and does) ring and alter what I thought the day would bring. But ... I have the option to decline any changes that don't suit me. And ... I have the benefit of making myself unavailable to work as long as they receive enough notice. I feel like I have some flexibility. When it comes to the need to have a second job ... flexibility is key.
• Consecutive days off. So far, so good. These days may not land on a weekend, but that is okay. I would much prefer to have two to three days off in a row, verses a day of here, there and anywhere. It leaves me with the feeling that I can still have a life. And plan!!
• Income. I didn't know if I could afford an uncertain financial state throughout the summer if I had no idea what the fall would bring. I had high hopes that I would be have a full-time position at Job #1 this fall. Things could still change ... but I have been guaranteed one thing. A (.3) position. One and a half days of guaranteed work at the contract rate of pay. And ... I do have a second job to continue to subsidize the variable income factor. I still have a back-up-plan to fall back on. I am grateful that one year after my initial leap of faith, I didn't need to rely on the emergency back-up fund that I had liquidated.
• Hopes and dreams. Yes, I still have room to dream even though this summer isn't unfolding the way that I thought it would. I may not have endless time with little or no structure. But I see a summer unfolding where I can create what I need, with the time that I have been given.

I am one week in to summer vacation. By the end of this weekend, I will have worked six out of ten days ... followed by three consecutive days off.

It may not be a summer of leisure. But as it is with everything else in my life, I know with great certainty that when I am looking back upon the Summer of 2012 ... I will see that it was everything that I needed it to be. It always is.

Ouch

I finally did it. I took my New Feet (orthotics) out for a real test. I went to a Zumba class last night.

First of all, I have not been to a Zumba class or exercised in any way, shape or form for over a year. I have added a new size to my body which my wardrobe budget cannot afford. Most of the excess poundage is situated between my waistline and my ankles. I find myself bending over like a pregnant woman due to the extra girth around my mid-drift. To say that I am not in the best form right now is a bit of an understatement.

So I packed my body into the clothes and shoes that I have on hand. I didn't feel pretty, but thanks to the stretchy material and elastic waistband at least I was comfortable.

I walked into the class with my expectations high. The formula that worked magic for me in the past would not disappoint. Music + people + movement = Joy.

Well? The formula wasn't quite the same this time around. The music didn't feel the same and work its magic. There wasn't a lot of interaction with the people around me. I talked with one person before the class started but when we found out that we work for the same employer the talk was more 'work' and less 'Zumba'. Work does not belong in a Zumba class.

Then there was the movement. A lot of the moves were new and alien to me. I wouldn't have realized that I remembered a thing until some more familiar steps were added. My muscles have a memory that my brain lacks. So there was a lot of brain work involved in keeping up.

Then there is the part where my body isn't quite as limber as it used to be. This wasn't terribly obvious until the stretching section at the end of the class. I don't bend and stretch the way I used to!

I worked up a sweat. I moved. I grooved (just a little bit). I went through the paces. My head wasn't in the happy place it always used to go when I went to a Zumba class. But it has been a year. I was over thinking and working hard just to keep up. Relaxation and fun just didn't enter the equation. Yet.

Then I came home and took off my shoes. Ouch! My New Feet hurt in new and improved ways. Instead of the gradual process of acquiring a corn on my middle toe (which used to take quite a while), I felt the instant discomfort of something (could it be a blister?) on the opposite side of the same toe. My left foot hurt. It never hurts. My toenails hurt. The ball of my right foot hurt. It hurt to wear socks!

I woke up this morning without any aches and pains in my body. But my toenails still hurt. Darn it all anyway!! These New Feet (orthotics) were supposed to be the answer to getting myself back into running shoes and moving again. Maybe it's the shoes ...

So I will take my meager 'budget' and stretch it further than I should. I will go and search for shoes that I can exercise in. The alternative is to exercise at home in my bare feet. But the orthotics will not work their magic if I am not wearing them. So I will see what a different pair of shoes can make.

My body will still be squeezed into clothes that are a size too small. But my feet? They must be happy. I want to come home with muscles that ache and feet that could go on for miles. I want to get moving again!!

One for Cinderella's Step Sisters

I went out one more time yesterday in search of the perfect 'glass slippers' for these unbelievably fussy and ill-formed step-sister-feet of mine.

Mission Impossible began on April 14th.

I thought I had stumbled across the perfect compromise. A pair of Dawg's for my casual walking pleasure; another pair (they were on sale) to easily slip in and out of around the yard. I then took the rest of my allotted budget amount to a shoe store that specializes in 'hard to fit feet'. I found a pair of shoes that I could wear to work and I thought my mission was complete.

Part Two of my shoe challenge involved wearing each of the above pairs of shoes around the house for a day to see if they worked for me.

Pair #1 was the first pair that was rejected. My little toe was complaining about that tiny strap that was cutting into it. And that was with light, household use. That would never work in the real world.

Pair #3 was super comfy after a day at home. I thought they were a winner. Then I tried them on with a pair of capri pants. I took a glance at how they looked in a mirror. 'Skiis' were all I could see. My feet are long, wide and ugly. I do not need shoes that accentuate the fact. I could not wear them out of the house.

I thought Pair #2 was going to work. So I kept those ...

Mission Impossible (the sequel) sent me out to my shoe shops for the second time two weeks later. The Dawg store did not have any other shoes that would work for me. They were very pleasant about it and refunded my money. I was grateful. I went to the specialty shoe store and returned my skiis. They were very understanding and we found another pair that looked and felt right for the job.

Trial #2 with the second pair of shoes went well. I ensured my orthotic was placed where it was supposed to be. I adjusted the straps so that my feet sat properly within the orthotics. I wore them around the house as I cleaned windows. They were very comfortable. Ah-ha! This was it! I was ready to take them out into the real world. Then I looked down.

The shoes were almost an inch too long in the toe area. Add to that, the fact that my bunions cause my toes to veer to the right. And the shoe itself veered to the left. I couldn't believe that I didn't see this before (I had my socks on when I tried the shoes on in the store). My foot looked long, wide, ugly and deformed. I could not wear these shoes out in public. I was losing hope.

Yesterday (May 12th - four weeks after the original mission), I set out on Mission Impossible #3. I tucked my orthotics and my feet into Pair #2 shoes and put on some miles as I wore them to my class; walked several blocks from my car to the shoe store; and did my grocery shopping. Oh, my achin' feet!! Pair #2 have got to go!

But ... I do believe that I finally found a decent pair of sandals that will work for me at my ultra-expensive-hard-to-fit-shoe-store!!

Believe it or not, these are the prettiest shoes  of the bunch. These are the ones I finally kept. 

Now I still have one horribly uncomfortable (new) Pair #2 of shoes to deal with. I wonder if I have the stamina for yet another Mission Impossible sequel??

As I hobbled out of the shoe store yesterday afternoon, I felt great empathy with Cinderella's evil step sisters. Just look at their feet!  I think they were probably bitter because they were wearing ill-fitting shoes ...