Birkenstocks, Balenciaga, and the ankle that tore them apart

It was a sunny day today in my part of the world. Cool, but sunny.

But I didn't need sunglasses to see through the brightness: I needed them to hide from anyone whose opinion I value and possibly know, respect, or admire.

I wore these today:

with these:

Yes, we all know about my broken ankle and the related "fall-out"; and that, due to these issues, I am "urged" to wear the Birks 24/7. But the secret is ... they're comfortable - in more ways than one. In fact, I haven't been without a pair of 38/Arizona/taupe suede sandals since 1989. Why should I be? They make me happy. And they're comfortable.

They say nothing of my style, however, and that is their great short-coming. My dream shoes are the Balenciaga gladiator boots from S/S 08: I think I actually gasped when I saw them for the first time. Here they are as modelled by the lovely Jennifer Connelly:

Some may argue that Birks ARE a style, on their own. Needing no justification or alarming accoutrements or Spanx undergarments to flatter. Just a good brushing and spot-cleaning to stay looking neat and tidy. They even float! And they're comfortable.

But, to me, Birks will always be just a little bit uncouth. You cannot, despite many earnest attempts, 'dress-them-up'. Or wear them without looking a touch unkempt. Especially with skirts, my garment of choice. In fact, wearing them with skirts (regardless the hem-length) raises more eyebrows than if I choose to wear shorts, trousers, jeans, capris, or culottes. I wear them and hear myself silently shouting: "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU DON'T CARE AND YOU DO!" As I've grown older, the shouting has become more insistent. But so has the soft, sweet voice crooning the need for comfort. And they're comfortable.

I can foresee a phase when I both won't wear Birks - and won't want to wear them: the day my oldest leaves for college I will place my 38/Arizona/taupe suedes on a shelf for a few years, until my youngest graduates. For right now, however, I choose to keep them on my feet or next to the bed. Because right now they're a necessity. They also provide me with some unfettered humor. And they're comfortable.

I was told tonight by a good friend that, had she seen me today, she would have forgiven me: "It was cold!" And had I seen her I would have been hoping that either she wouldn't notice or would kid me about them in her cheerful, 'life's-too-short' way. But I know she would have accepted the truth when I told her: "I need to be comfortable. And they're comfortable."

Today's conundrum: "British Racing Green" or "You Don't Know Jacques"?

Future conundrum: Will there be something to replace titanium in repairing broken bones? When? Will it be better?

Thanks for perusing this blog; blog you again soon!

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

So, how enamored am I of the holidays? Plenty! This morning, my husband brought me a gingerbread bagel (with low-fat hazelnut cream cheese) and a half-decaf-half-hot-chocolate. Divine. "City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style..."

Now I know that I talk/type a good game and tell you after each long drought of posts that I'm back, but truth is...I sometimes have no idea what to write.

And I have long arguments with my body about my health which also distracts me from writing.

I haven't posted about this because it is just not interesting to me. I live it every day. But I broke my ankle just over three years ago and the impact it has had on my life has been unfortunately dramatic.

I have 10 screws and a plate in my right ankle. They are daily nuisances, and yes - I can predict the weather. My rehab was suspect, or so my new physical therapist tells me, and I can no longer run or 'go to my left'. My rehab surgeon assured me that I would be doing windsprints within weeks; my reumatologist assured me that my tennis days were over. Oh - and I should count-out ever 'running to greet my grandchildren'.

First, I have no grandchildren. Second, that's a pretty harsh statement to make to a 30-something mother of two young boys, both of whom depend on their mother to be, well, mobile.

These three years have taught me a lot more than I think I learned in the previous three decades. And at the end of all of it, I have a wonderful family, and a loving God.

OK. That's the first installment. Possibly the last. Rehashing my ankle-drama feels trite to me. Again, I have been living with it. So maybe, if you read this and you have questions, I can respond to them through the comments.

Time to sit back and listen to 'Carmen, Ohio'. After I pull the boys up out-of the rumpus room where they are engaged in StarWars Legos battles and humming the theme from 'the Price is Right', my husband's new Wii game.

It's in your head now, too, isn't it?

Current conundrum: Is the turkey baster used for basting turkeys any longer? Or is it used more for syphoning gas from the mower to use in the snowblower?

Future conundrum: Will the real President-elect please stand up? I re-watched the speech from the 2004 DNC. He seems a different - totally different - person to me now. Why?

Thanks for perusing this blog; blog you again soon!