Blundering (Saturday, Part I)

Only twenty-one years late: My new Blundstone boots.

A thing of beauty, right?

I mean, just look at them.

They're Blundstone 587 in "Rustic Black," which has a blue cast to it, I think. I bought them at REI. I tried them on and they fit and they are boots. (They'll take some breaking in, I mean, as boots do; they're not the squishy, loafer-like sports shoes that we've all come to know and love.) That gave me a bit of pause. But it took me about two minutes to decide to buy them, and, as I told Dave: If they were beautiful high heels and started out uncomfortable, I wouldn't think twice. I'd just buy them. (Or at least I would have once upon a time.) Anyway, I decided even if I never wear them again, I've wanted them for twenty-one years and I worked extra to get them and I got them. If they sit in a box in the closet, I'm fine with it.

Some women buy jewelry worth thousands of dollars and park it in a safety deposit box at the bank, right? I'm not that type. (Or maybe I am. A little.)