Saturday, November 17, 2007
My sister, who is known by my family as Katie-Boo, brought this pair of shoes with her to school yesterday. We met at the library. She showed me a new pair of boots she'd just bought, "I'd lend you these, but they are keeping me warm at the moment." Instead she brought these red flats. She thought I'd like how it looks like someone folded the material at the front of the shoe. And she knows that we both happen to like red.
I wore the shoes today while doing my usual Saturday sort of things. I realized that I really like Saturday mornings, because I was remembering a week ago and the same happy feeling at the same time of day.
I rode to the art studio. The class was really quite rowdy today, which I don't know how to explain. I learned a new word: "mathemachicken," the saying of which may have induced the aforementioned rowdiness. It was explained to me that a mathemachicken is a chicken that is really good at math. Maybe you knew that (or could guess).
(more Mama Jean socks...my grandmother is pretty nifty.)
From there I went to the art store on the way to the market. Around this time it began to snow, and I began to notice my feet becoming cold.
Katie Boo's shoes probably weren't designed for snowy weather. They are red (leather? pretend leather?) flats without any support to speak of. They are super light. Shoes for looking pretty in, I guess. And maybe for dancing? (I'll have to try that out on the kitchen floor). Her feet are a size and a half larger than mine (I think), but somehow these shoes stayed on pretty well. My heels popped out every so often, but it wasn't a problem.
At the market I ran into some folks who know about my project--they were joking about how when they see me now, the first thing they do is look down at my feet and ask me who the shoes belong to. There are a bunch of people who do this, even though it's only been about a week since I started this endeavor.
I began chatting with Tara and her pal Chris by the front entrance, and before long there was a small throng of us (Natalie, Diane and Pete each came by and joined our awkwardly placed throng), which often happens at the market. Tara took pictures of our feet, which almost look like they are in conversation. I thought that this was really neat--I wonder what can be told about the relationship between people from looking at their feet when they are around each other. Perhaps nothing. It's just an interesting thought.
I realized--not for the first time--that part of what I love about the market is all the people I run into. It can really be quite an event. I chatted briefly with Janet and Caleb, Ruth and Kim, Meagan and John, Patrick and Maura, Erin, Yehuda and Matt, and the usual vendors that I see. It got to the point where I really had to be diligent about getting the things I needed to pick up, because the market was soon to close.
(Love and hugs at the market. As Tara remarked, "you don't see this at Zehrs." It's true.)
I was thinking about this, about being happy and wearing Katie's shoes, because Katie and I both live in Guelph, but hardly see each other just because we take totally different paths in navigating city, and have really different interests and routines. I don't know if Katie has ever been to the market...maybe once or twice. So again I found myself thinking about taking a person's shoes on an adventure that they wouldn't normally have the opportunity to go on. Especially pretty red flats on a wintery Saturday morning...they probably would usually be tucked away somewhere. Especially fancy red flats at an art class, on a bike, at the market...
After market I rode home, and picked up some other shoes along the way--those of Earl, Maddie, Becca and Pete. Once home it took some time for my feet to warm up, and I did some computer work, drank tea and such.
Katie's shoes are light and simple, but also kind of bold, playful and fun. It was neat to hear her thoughtfulness in picking them out for me, and to be able to take them places they wouldn't normally go. And to take shoes I wouldn't normally wear to the places that I normally go.