I have needed a new pair of shoes for awhile. Just kept putting it off.
My shoes of choice are SAS (San Antonio Shoes) which are made here in Texas at the --you got it--San Antonio factory. They are well-made. They are comfortable. I think they are just dorky enough to be a bit funky, but I'm looking for excuses. They had their 15 minutes of fame back in the 1970s, when everyone wanted their sandals. I had been used to buying a new pair of sandals every spring because they would be falling apart by fall. To my delight, my SAS sandals lasted several years. That was really nice because, you know, handmade American shoes are expensive. When you can amortize over several years, not so much. Anyway, I got hooked on SAS.
A trademark of the store are their wonderful caramel and chocolate caramels. You get a handful with each purchase, and if you ask for more, you get them. They are REEELY superior caramels. As good as the shoes.
My pup Gracie is quite bored. She had her spaying surgery Thursday and bounced right back. I am giving her low-dose aspirin in peanut butter twice a day to keep her from noticing the incision and licking it. She is getting rawhide chews regularly. But she brought me her tug rope. I played gently but wouldn't throw it. She brought her squeaky ball, and I wouldn't throw that, either. She feels fine, but she has to let the stitches heal. BOR-ING.
I don't know why I have never put my SAS shoes in the closet at night with my other shoes, but these are what I wear, and they have routinely gone on a stand roughly 2 feet high. She has never bothered them till today.
I let her outside this morning, then pretty promptly let her in. She wanted to play. This was my computer time. So she played with her toys on the floor at my feet and fell asleep.
Awww, I thought, and glanced over to see one of my beloved SAS shoes on the rug. She had slobbered all over it, but it was unharmed. Its mate was nowhere in sight.
Still isn't. This is a tiny house. About 900+ square feet. Not much furniture. I can't get on my knees so I brought both granddaughters over to help me search.They looked under the beds, the couch, the chest of drawers. We looked behind doors, behind the recliner--nothing. And I KNOW she didn't eat it overnight. I would have seen her carry it outside, but oldest granddaughter searched the yard anyway. No shoe. The closets were closed tight, but I looked anyway. I had those girls look under the bed 3 times.
"No, grandma," they both said. "There's nothing there."
I asked for younger granddaughter first. She's a good finder. Sharp eyes. But she didn't find. So her big sister came over, positive her younger (lesser) sister had overlooked the shoe. She didn't find it either.
Gracie, where did you put it? She looks back with total innocense. What shoe? Is that what you call it?
Sooner or later it will show up. In the meantime, I have an extremely uncomfortable pair of flats to wear with dress slacks or my athletic shoes. I'm hard to fit,my size is hard to find, I don't like to shop and I don't have many shoes.
So today I drove 30 miles to the store where I have always bought SAS shoes. The recession was brought home with two blocks of empty, once thriving stores. And SAS wasn't there. Eek.
I went over to the MegaMall, and looked around. In this huge shopping center, only five shoe stores. One was Footlocker. I was looking for other options.
Eventually, I drove home, googled SAS, and got a live number for the store I was looking for. The address was on I35E, as was the former store, so that wouldn't have tipped me off. When I called, I learned they have moved. I can drive down on Monday and get my shoes. Reduced store hours mean no Sundays. So I guess I'll go Monday and hope I can snag another pair of shoes for no more than $135. Probably more now, come to think of it. I do really, really need those shoes.
Gracie continues to want to play. Maybe if she gets frustrated enough, she will bring out the other shoe, but I doubt it. Ah, Gracie. I'm glad you are feeling better, but you are cutting heavily into my Christmas budget.
Life was more peaceful before Gracie. More orderly. No one else to consider when I went out. And without the laughter, the irritations, the hugs and life of living with another living being.
I do love this blond and white Corgi. I know she loves me too. Her destruction is never malicious. It's like having a kid around, mostly.
She got me out shopping again. That's not a bad thing.
At all.
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1 comment:
Awesome title. :-)
I could never have a Corgi.
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