Some people buy shoes

 Today dawned bright and golden.

I felt ready for anything.
Even shopping for shoes.


I have been feeling about my shoes 
rather as E.M Delafield's Provincial Lady
does about her clothes,


'Put on my Green, dislike it very much indeed, 
and once more survey contents of wardrobe, 
as though expecting to find miraculous addition 
to perfectly well-known contents.
Needless to say, this does not happen, 
and after some contemplation of my Black - 
which looks rusty and entirely out of date - 
and my Blue - which is a candidate for the next Jumble Sale - 
I return to the looking glass still in my Green, 
and gaze at it earnestly.'


There always appear to be a good many pairs of shoes on the rack,
but when it comes to finding a suitable pair for anything other than
running, walking or gardening, they fail me utterly.
I am quite incapable of buying pretty, elegant, 
pointy-toed shoes with heels.


I failed again today,
but these were reduced 
from £135
to £75
to £60
to £54
and had
smocking on them for goodness sakes.

(Mem.: Do not wear them to empty out the compost bins.)