Thursday, September 6, 2018

Historical Bricks

For the month of September, I am using prompts from a project called 30 Days Hath September. Each day has a prompt for something to capture, something to collect, and something to record. The prompts are for a scrapbook album, but I thought they'd be wonderful blogging prompts as well. I am selecting one of the three prompts to write about each day. 
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September 6: A photo of shoes

Shoes

I had several ideas for today with the "shoes" prompt. 

Idea #1: Write about the sprain I'm currently nursing

Idea #2: Take a picture of each family members' favorite shoes lined up in a row

Idea #3: Write about the morning walks I've been going on with various friends for the past two years

Idea #4: Write about Scotty's Doc Martens

As you can see from the photo, the Doc Martens won. So let's rewind to the amazing year of 1999. 

I was 15, he was 18.

He had braces, I had acne.

I wore no-name anything, he wore name-brand everything. 

Thus, his clothes were Big Rock, his sunglasses were Oakleys, and his shoes were Docs. This was all very sexy to my teenage self, until he started wearing the black and white wingtips, and I wasn't sure if I could be seen in public with him any longer. 

Eventually I got used to them, and he continued wearing them into his 20's. When we bought our house and started attending a new church congregation, Scotty was known for two things: 

1. Living in the "gargoyle house" (a story for another day) and
2. Wearing "tuxedo" shoes

If someone wasn't sure who we were, people would say "You know, the ones who live in the gargoyle house!" or "You know, the guy who wears the tuxedo shoes!" and suddenly we had identities. 

Two weeks ago, Scotty pulled out his black and white Doc Martens and tried them on, but they were too small. For a moment I thought that maybe, after twenty years, he was going to get rid of them. But a few hours later, I heard my son clomping into the chapel and looked over to see him wearing them. 

He was excited at first, but after three hours, he was less than thrilled about the weight of the shoes. I feel like I'm wearing bricks," he declared. 

What he doesn't know is that those bricks have a rich history, and someday, maybe his kids will come clomping into a chapel with them on their feet. 

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