Oh crum. Admittedly, I don't pay much for my shoes. This latest pair seemed to be holding up well for what I put them through. The stitching held up and there were no cracks in the soles. While watching NASCAR yesterday, I happened to glance at my feet. Oh crum, really? The sole on the right was separating from the shoe proper. Dang! The same thing on the left. It's a wonder I hadn't been flapping around like Bozo the Clown or tripping and falling flat on my face. I tried something I hadn't done before and found a tube of Super Glue. I knew from past experience (don't ask) that one must be careful with that super-sticky stuff or end up with fingers stuck together, or worse. I managed to get "body and sole" (apologies to the 1930 song) together without incident. It's not a permanent fix, but maybe it will hold until I can get to town again.
Speaking of stickers, we've moved on from the tiny daggers from that lacy, fern-like weed in spring to the ubiquitous foxtails of summer. My socks bristle with them after a hike down to the barn, and they get in the cuffs of my bibbies. Petting GB is not just a sign of affection, I'm checking his fur for this painful plague of pointy missiles.
Arden and I have a date to go into town together on Wednesday. I hope my shoes will stick together until then.
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