Let me tell you about my day yesterday.
Yes, that is my shoe. Stuck in the mud. I stepped right out of the thing while walking from my car to the house. There it sat, mired in the muddy quagmire that separates our garage concrete from our back door concrete. WHY these two sections of concrete were poured without a connector is inconceivable. These are the countrylife questions that haunt me.
I will be the first to say that yes, high heels can face their share of dangers and perils in the big city. There are cracks in the sidewalk, uneven curbs, subway grates, and pigeon poop.
In fact, I was once trotting to work in Chicago and wedged my heel firmly in an ‘L’ grate. It was horrifying. I’m thankful my ankle didn’t snap. Rather, I kept moving forward a few more yards while my shoe remained sad and lonely in its metal prison. Try to look like a dignified urbanite while standing barefoot on the sidewalk wrestling with a shoe. I dare you.
That traumatizing experience notwithstanding, I found city life to be much kinder on my heels.
My country house does not have a paved driveway (the tractor tires would likely tear it up), nor does it have a smooth path from garage to house. My shoes are always getting dirty and scuffed. I engage in a delicate dance each morning and evening as I leave for and return from work. On any given day I can be seen balancing car keys, an iPhone, a coffee thermos, a massive purse, binders, and an umbrella while trying to leap from one section of concrete to another.
It’s not so bad when the ground is dry, but we’ve (thankfully) had a lot of rain lately. The Dairy Man and I live at the bottom of a big hill and when it rains heavily, torrents of rainwater wash down and pool in front of the garage. (And in our basement, but that’s another story for another time.) Though the puddles have dried up, the ground has not.
Thus, my heel sunk into the squish and didn’t pop back out.
While I have mostly adjusted to country life, my shoes can’t say the same.
These girls are not prepared for off-roading.
It might be time to start wearing my barn boots to the garage. Either that or convince the Dairy Man to provide daily piggyback rides. Honey?
Ps: Did you know you can follow the MFW escapades on Facebook? If you’re into cute pictures of border collies and posts about thrilling subjects like manure management, I’m your girl. Like me! I dare you.