Tomorrow, I am to wear boots. They are cowboy boots. I got them in Vienna, while I lived there a few years ago. For my best friend’s wedding, the bridal party all wore cowboy boots. The night before the wedding, we had a fire outside in the cool, January first air. I had my foot resting on the edge of the ring around the fire pit, not realizing that it was a metal pit (as opposed to a ring around a dirt pit), and the edge was connected to the part holding the fire. I felt a stickiness when I adjusted my footing, and checked my boot to see what its cause was. No, it was not tree sap, but rather the melting of the sole of my boot.
To this day, I recall the incident every time I think of the boots, and I smile goofily (or so it feels to me, anyway) when I see the deep line going across the forward sole of my one boot. I am also grateful that I noticed it when I had, and that the sole still remains entirely functional, despite the sort of gash – I could have burned my foot if it’d gone through the sole much farther!
Just an interesting story about my boots, I suppose. 🙂 Oh, and they’re from a store called something like “New York”.