208

Ooh, back to work, didn’t want to go … :o(  still it wasn’t too bad though, not many in.

 

Do you remember the first time that you felt like an adult?  I do – I was about 11 or possibly 12, in the Guides.  Every Sunday three Guides were chosen from one of the local packs to take part in Church Parade and be an escort for the Guide Flag. 

 

One Sunday it was my turn.  We were rehearsed in what we were to do, and then informed that for the service we would not be wearing our usual (and usually scruffy) socks but were required to wear stockings, and could we tell our Mums.

 

Well, came the Great Day, and Mum kindly adapted one of her suspender contraptions to fit me and lent me a pair of her stockings.  I was under strict instructions not to ladder them, causing great concern lest I encounter a splinter on the church pew or walk into a prickly hedge or catch my shoe on my ankle, etc – you know, all the 101 ways in which we can ladder tights and stockings.  Needless to say they were returned in perfect condition.

 

But I felt really grown up as I walked into the church wearing them!  The only teensy-weensy problem was that my feet had been in socks for most of their lives, and suddenly they were in a pair of flimsy sheer deniers.  This meant that my shoes, which accommodated feet and socks, were just a tad on the big side now.  They were lace-ups, so at least they didn’t flip and flop all the way down the aisle, but my feet definitely slid around in them.

 

What makes this relevant today is that just before Christmas I bought a pair of court-style shoes for work.  They were cheapo ones but had a good grip on the sole, because of all the hard frost and ice we’d had recently, and I wanted some because none of my other pairs had a sole anything like good enough to stop me slipping about.  I had to buy size 7s because the 6s were too small and because it was a cheap shop they didn’t stock 6½.

 

This morning, having been woken by Diesel several times in the night, I was not quite awake and just grabbed a pair of black tights to wear to my first day back at work after the Christmas break, and because R dropped me off in the car I didn’t really notice that they weren’t the thick warm ones that I’d been used to wearing but some thin and rather skiddy ones.  And I haven’t moved from my portacabin very much today either, so I didn’t notice the effect until just now when I started my route-march home – and found that my feet were skidding about in my shoes just as they did when I was a proud Guide at Church Parade, and I had to smile at the memory and decided to share the moment with you.  The only difference this time was that these shoes aren’t lace-ups, so they WERE flipping and flopping as I made my way up the hill, and once or twice I stepped right out of them, hee hee!  Go on, you can have a good laugh at my expense, I did!

 

I just hate buying shoes, I don’t think that I’ve got the right feet for shoes somehow …  Never mind, I’ll dig out a selection of thicker tights tomorrow and will be OK.

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About Linda Weeks

About my life with the daughter I thought I'd never have - but I did, thanks to a wonderful anonymous egg donor, to whom I will be forever grateful. xx
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One Response to 208

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