I’ve already written how I have made a large investment in boots and coats since moving to Massachusetts. As far as I’m concerned, there are few worse things than being cold or having cold feet. Plus, I remain somewhat terrified that at some point I will “fall and not get up” in the snow and ice, leaving Daisy to pick at my frozen remains until someone offers her a tiny treat or shiny toy and she abandons me without a glance.
Being all about the research, I spent some time reading various critiques on the different brands of boots, plus getting recommendations from my East Coast friends. My first purchase was a pair of Sorels, very highly rated, and equally expensive. These boots have gravitas, as well as weight. They lace up, have wool liners and can withstand -40 degrees. Plus they weigh 2.5 pounds each. They’re serious boots!
The problem is, they’re a bitch to get on! And my current routine involves rolling out of bed, getting dressed and suiting up for the elements as quickly as possible to bring Daisy outside. The sweet girl has been a real trouper about going for up to 10 or 11 hours without a potty break, but I don’t want to push my luck, so it’s always a race against time, at least in my mind, to get us both up and out as fast as I can manage it. I don’t have the time or patience in the early morning, to fight with the wool liners and heavy laces.
Ironically, even though I have purchased several pairs of lovely boots, of varying levels of utility and attractiveness, my go to, every day boots are the cheapest and frankly ugliest boots I own. They’re brown, already salt stained, but damn it, they have zippers and I can get them on in about 2 seconds. I’ve ended up planning outfits around these clodhoppers, perhaps a sign that I’ve really given up. At least until spring.
But Friday, we had a pretty significant storm. When I got up to walk Daisy yesterday morning, I could see that the snow was piled quite high, higher than even my brown boots could plow through. The sun was shining and I had places to go and things to do. I figured it was the day to finally break out the mighty Sorels! And so, with Daisy whimpering softly in impatience, I took the time to fit the wool liners around my feet and shove my way into the colossal boots. And I have to admit, I felt sort of powerful in those massive beasts! Even wading through drifts to shovel out my car, my feet were warm and dry. I took DP on her morning walk and took off to cross those errands off my list.
The boots and I were making great progress. Tax accountant, check. Pet store, check. Drugstore, Wine shop, Supermarket, done, done and done, feet still toasty and dry. I was on the last stop, a quick errand on Moody Street (the Champs Elysees of Waltham, don’t you know) when I felt myself starting to skid through an icy patch on the slick street. I didn’t go all the way down, but I managed to twist the ankle that I’ve been babying all week through a bout of tendonitis. Can I just say, ouch!
The Sorels let me down, man, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever learn to love them again. And I know now, because I have a sore foot, and my nice neighbor told me, that snow boots aren’t necessarily ice boots, and apparently I need to invest in something called “ice stabilicers” which are cleats that you can attach to your boots for extra traction. And goodness knows, I love the excuse to buy yet another accessory, it’s what separates us from the animals, right? But in the meantime, I’ll be watching the ground a bit more carefully, and wearing my “trusty brownies.” At least until spring.
The end, for now