For the pink squares challenge.
For the pink squares challenge.
In response to Cee’s last “Pink Boots” addition, here is mine!!! (Cee’s look suspiciously uncomfortable, don’t you think?) Here’s a cowgirl who is making an early fashion statement:
A friend furnished me with this photo of her first great-granddaughter. I think we are really getting into this spontaneous boot challenge. Do you have a boot photo that needs to be seen? If so, send it on over!
Cee and I seem to be having a bit of a private boot challenge going here. First, she published THIS, then I published THIS, then she published THIS and I published the blog you are viewing. If you’d like to join in, post your boots both HERE and HERE.
Phew. That’s a lot of links. Bet they’ll pick this up as spam. If not, come on. Show us your boots!!!
For the Pink challenge this week, Cee published a photo of a pair of pink cowboy boots. My competitive side came out, so I have to publish these two photos of the hot pink suede cowboy boots I wore with my wedding dress! Two of these gals who went to school with me from grade one through twelve came from Wyoming to California to witness this event they had probably decided would never happen so they had to witness it for themselves. The other one, also from Wyoming, I’d never met before, but she decided when she heard about those boots, no doubt, to come see for herself. Rita is in the middle, back row. Sheila is to your right. They are the two old friends.
Three blacks balance out the two pinks. The other feet belong to friends from my women’s poetry group in L.A. and to Liz, a friend I knew in Australia who came from Texas for the event. It was fun seeing folks from my varied lives all mixed together at the wedding. This was 31 years ago, folks, so no congratulations are in order.
Here is the prompt site: https://beckybofwinchester.com/2018/09/16/pink-september-squares-16/
(Click on first photo to enlarge all. All photos by jdb.)
For Paula’s “Pick a Word” Challenge. The word I chose was “motley.”
Red Platform Heels
When I saw them in the store,
one half classy and one half whore,
the Crocs I had on seemed a bore.
Those heels were girlie, cut low, red.
I knew those heels would knock men dead.
As I left the store in them,
I was feeling oh so femme
until one shoe caught on my hem.
‘Twas then that I went tumbling down,
wrenched my ankle and tore my gown.
This fall was just a quirk, I thought,
with no regrets for what I’d bought,
for I was feeling oh so hot
that men would surely all be gawking.
I’d be more careful with my walking.
In Mexico, young girls or crones
go tripping over cobblestones
with no risk to their ankle bones.
Moving with sure-footed grace,
they never fall upon their face.
They chat as they cross streets together
even in inclement weather––
Their three inch heels of strapped-on leather
negotiate each slippery rock,
barely noticing where they walk.
So I got up from the floor
and sauntered once more towards the door
onto the street outside the store.
Where, once I got into the swing
I knew those shoes were just the thing.
My car was parked one block away;
but it was such a lovely day,
I thought that I would just sashay
up to the plaza for lunch and booze––
a trial run for my new shoes!
I belted up my dress a bit
so I would not trip over it.
Once more I felt sexy and fit
as I accomplished no small feat
negotiating each walk and street.
I must admit that I felt hobbled
as I walked over roadways cobbled.
Perhaps I grimaced, winced and wobbled.
But at the time, I was enthused––
thinking only of my new shoes.
When I reached the plaza and I walked by
a table of men, I felt each eye
peruse my legs from toe to thigh.
I knew that those new shoes were why
I held the gaze of every guy.
Maneuvering towards an empty table,
I walked as well as I was able,
but overlooked just one small cable
as I glanced over for their reaction.
That’s how I ended up in traction!