We all know it’s a torturous and painful process: we wait for them to drop, then curse them when they do, because now we’re adding ankle blisters to the inventory of pain (along with the blisters we have behind the knees, and on the tops of our toes).
Note to self:
if I am stupid enough to decide to leave boots on to help break them in by continuing to wear them while running errands, make sure one of those errands does not involve picking up a birthday cake for a party.
Carrying a 100 lb (okay maybe 5 lb) cake while goose-stepping? Not good. Thank heaven for the kindness of strangers who possess hair-trigger lunging capability. And whom, while sorely tempted to hold cake for ransom, generously (if hesitantly) return it once a shopping cart is retrieved for safe perambulation. Without swiping a finger through the frosting. Bless you.
2nd note to self:
before mounting ultra-sensitive, eager horse, remember to switch out Stiffer-Than-The-Great-Wall-of-China tall boots for ancient paddock boots. (Ahhhhhhh) I may not be able to feel his barrel through the 2 foot wall of unyielding leather, but he can feel the increasing pressure I’m applying in an attempt to find his side. This does not make for a nice leg yield. What I am really going to get is a sloppy transition into a NASCAR speed gallop.
3rd note to self:
put fingers in ears and sing lalalalala when tempted to listen to the eclectic, third hand, but absolutely true stories of how someone else heard so-and-so perfectly broke in their new billion dollar custom Vogels. Do not fill boots with water, let stand for a couple of hours, empty, and then wear soggy boots until dry. No matter how torturous the evil boots are, and how tempting it would be to take revenge.
4th note to self:
you will love these boots. Really. Some day. Say by the year 2010.