This is not a shoe blog: Kuh-logs

Kittens, a little slice of loveliness has fallen upon my feet. And for a mama who nearly always has soy butter or the inside stuff from cheesey crackers somewhere on her person, this is heaven.

Heaven in the form of silver (yes, silver) clogs.

They were a birthday gift from a friend who paged back through these lil ol' archives and found my favorite shoe posts and ordered up the shiniest of them as a surprise. Ohhhh, they are making me (and my Russian Navy-painted tootsies very, very happy).

As if they aren't framing my mommy uniform well enough, the very best part is the kuh-lunk kuh-lunk kuh-lunk as my clogs meet the hardwood in the long corridor of our new place.

It's still empty, only a few boxes and framed posters and new beds fill the big open space, and I like the echo of me and my shoes moving from room to room.

When I'm still, leaning against the kitchen counter or sitting in the windowsills and looking out across the rooms, I map out where my furniture will go, plan where to put all the pretty things I am busy packing up in another apartment and at my parents' house.

In that silence, I like what I'm seeing. I'm envisioning our new home, yes. But I'm also envisioning the new life we're moving into. It won't be perfect and it won't be without it's stretches. But in it, there will be lots of sun coming in through the windows -- sun that makes patterns on the floor, floods the color on the walls and reflects on the texture of my new shoes.

There will be corners for each of us, where little metal cars can spin their wheels and pennies can pile up and plastic tools can be put to work. Where scrapbooking supplies might actually be taken out of storage boxes and novels that have been lovingly dog-eared and read and debated sit in stacks. Where photos remind of us of where we came from and moments we're making.

And there will be a long table where our friends can come over for playdates and parties and spontaneous Tuesday night dinners (especially friends who bring shoes...or at least beer...aw hell, juice boxes make us perfectly happy). There will be a rocking chair to cuddle in and a big couch to cozy up in and a welcoming kitchen to laugh and make quesadillas and coffee and quinoa and chocolate cake in.

Here, there will be times to be silent and still, to look out over it all and make plans, rearrange, think inside and beyond the red walls. There will quiet steps and late night padding from room to room to make sure all is calm and safe. And there will be a hallway where there is room enough to take long, confident strides.

Kah-lunking all the way.

Comments

[the weirdgirl]

What a sweet, reflective post! Good luck and happy memories in your new place.

(Though I really can't approve of the clogs, silver notwithstanding.)