What is it about shoes?

 

Hello, My name is River…. and I’m an addict.

There I said it.

I’m an admitted shoe-aholic.

And while it’s entirely possible I started out life like this –

 

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My love of shoes has been a constant through the years. In the past I had racks full of sexy high heeled shoes. Truly… I never met a pump or peep toe mule I didn’t like. But now, in my decrepit early 50’s with evil bunions paining my every step, you’re more likely to find sandals, sneakers and boots clogging my closet.

But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have a slight problem.

 

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So I went shoe shopping last week and bought a few pairs for fall/winter.

 

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But in my defense, I never repeated a color so that should count for something.

Grey, olive, navy, brown, putty, (yes, be quiet…that’s a color) black, and beige.

Okay….

I lied.

 

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I did buy 2 black pairs. But one was leather and one was suede.

And yes, I bought 2 beige pairs… but look. That one has lacy cutouts on the top.

And that blue pair? Well, they’re fleece lined so that’s totally different.

The brown.

Damn. I have no excuse for the brown.

But I’m an addict, remember? Shoes are my crack!

 

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There are those  ( My husband, my friends, my family, my old coworkers… alright basically everyone. You happy?)  who say I have too many shoes.

To which I reply –

 

 

Too many shoes?

Pffftt!  It’s like being too rich or too thin…. just not possible.

And please don’t raise the possibility of me returning any of my recent purchases to the store.

 

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Because it’s not going to happen.

I love me some shoes.

 

 

And clearly the universe agrees…

Because it sent me a sign in the mail today.

 

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Did I mention I also love the word free?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Color me impressed.

 

 

My favorite time of year is here and Mother Nature is putting on a show in Maine.

 

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Pockets of beautiful autumnal color are bursting forth.

 

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And almost everywhere you look, it’s gorgeous.

 

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Warm days, cool nights…

 

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Farmers markets filled with apples and pumpkins.

 

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If there’s a prettier place than autumn in New England…

 

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I’m sure I don’t know where it is.

 

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Even the dearly departed are enjoying the show.

Welcome fall!

She’s a peach.

 

Technically, she’s a Hurricane Katrina rescue dog named Peaches who belongs to the farmers across the street…. but yes, she’s a peach as well.

 

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They went out of town over the weekend so we had dog duty… which isn’t a hardship because I’m currently petless for the first time in my life due to a husband who wants to travel when he retires next year.

 

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I agree Peaches.

Boo and hiss to that.

 

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Peaches is a rough and tumble farm dog who dearly missed her father…. and spent an inordinate amount of time looking for him out the window.

 

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She couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she wasn’t allowed to cross the road and go back home…. so even though she’s a free range canine, when we had her outside she had to be tied.

 

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That didn’t go over very well…

So the first thing she did in retaliation?

 

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Yeah.

Peaches – 1.

Alvin – 0.

 

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Peaches is also the only dog I know who enjoys self flagellation.

She picks up her toys and beats herself silly. To the point where I worry she’ll hurt herself.

Naturally she only flagellated half heartedly whenever I filmed, but you get the idea.

 

 

 

Hey, whatever floats your boat.

It kept her occupied, and the chipmunk population breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Let’s talk, Philadelphia…..

 

Disclaimer:  I am not a hockey fan and I have nothing against the city of Philadelphia.

So if I offend any die hard Flyers out there, apologies. But your new mascot has me  (and frankly all of sportsdom)   freaked the f*ck out   a bit baffled.

Meet Gritty.

 

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Who is, as one site put it:

“An amorphous burnt-sienna blob that looks like the product of the unholy union between a third-tier H.R. Pufnstuf character and an even-more-hirsute-than-usual Seth Rogan.”

I mean, what exactly were the creators going for here…

Homicidal maniac?

Under medicated sociopath?

 

 

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If they meant to terrify women and children and send them home with bone chilling nightmares…. well done Philly.

Face it, this thing is disturbing.

 

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Witness it’s nod to Kim Kardashian.

 

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And the fact that Gritty took numerous spills on the ice his first night did not go unnoticed.

 

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When the Pittsburgh Penguins reTweeted the photo with the line, “Lol, ok”

Gritty showed his true colors.

 

 

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Be afraid.

 

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Be very afraid.

 

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It’s that time of year again.

 

 

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Our backyard trees are full of apples and I’ve been picking like crazy.

 

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Well no, I didn’t.

 

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But yesterday I made apple bread and Norwegian apple pie, so that’s just as good.

 

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Autumn in Maine is pretty damn fabulous, not to mention colorful. The trees are starting to turn, our neighbor is harvesting pumpkins from his fields and if you drop by the house this month you’ll be stuffed full of baked apple treats.

 

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My glazed apple bundt cake is pretty special, although the secret ingredient may have something to do with it.

 

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Yeah.

We do apples up right at River’s house.

 

Class is in session.

 

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I admit when I chose this week’s course I thought it was a joke.

But clearly I am woefully uninformed because Pickleball really is a thing.

 

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Beginner Pickleball.

Have you heard the buzz about Pickleball and wondered what it was all about? Come learn to play this wonderful paddle sport, suitable for all ages. Taught by an experienced tennis professional who has become a Pickleball devotee, this class will have you playing in no time. Paddles and balls supplied. Bring tennis shoes to put on when you arrive (no street shoes allowed on the courts).

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Pickleball?

I had visions of this:

 

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But no…. it really does exist.

There are courts, equipment, instructors, a magazine and evidently…

Nomenclature.

 

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After doing a little research, I discovered it’s a rather slow paced game primarily embraced by the retired set.

Although not without it’s vanguard.

 

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And hey,  if you’re lucky enough to live in Pittsburgh…

(Yes, I said that with a straight face.)

 

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So maybe I’d better get a jump on my sunset years, grab a ball and start pickling.

Who’s with me?

Wednesdays  5:30-7:30 pm for 6 weeks.

$59/$64  Non refundable.