Very cool! At first glance it looks like a "granny" boot from the late 1800s or early 1900s, but it could be more modern than that. Dd used to have a pair of those cowboy boots that lace up and have the little tassle fringe thing at the toe. It could be one of those. Tell us a story Jenn! What do you think is going on with that boot? Maybe you can make it a Tall Tale Tuesday for next week:o)
Wow - the pressure! At the moment, there is no story other than "Oh, Look! A boot!" while hiking around my husband's family's olllllld house. But yes, this does need a story. Let me get a little tipsy and then perhaps I can come up with something creative.
Once upon a time, there was a man named Steve. Steve was a good man, but he suffered from a bad case of pride. Though he was poorer than dirt and always had been, Steve managed to put on airs that left people wondering if perhaps he was from a rich background and only recently down on his luck from an unfortunate investment. But even this generous opinion was not enough for poor Steve. He would not be satisfied until he left the impression of current wealth. To do this, he knew he must dress richly. His clothing, he washed regularly so that it always looked tidy. But his shoes gave him away every time. They were falling apart and the soles flapped as he walked, giving a nice breeze to his toes. He had to find new shoes.
Alas, the pride was so strong in him, that he fell prey to temptation. Rather than pay his bills or feed his family, Steve spent his very last penny on a fine pair of leather boots. His family kicked him out of the house and he was left to wander, hungry.
He grabbed a bite here and there, as well as he could, but he refused to sleep in a shelter where he might be seen with the lowly homeless and taken for one of them. Instead, he wandered into the country at night and searched for warm hideaways for shelter.
Sadly, this only lasted a few short weeks before a freakish cold snap blew in and left him freezing in the cold. He suffered frostbite in his left foot and the entire foot had to be removed. Oh, the irony! Still, he refused to relinquish the boots. They could be sold for a morsel, but no. He had sacrificed all for these boots and he would not give them up. He carried one close to him with his right hand while his left hand held the crutch that now helped him walk.
He wandered the countryside, slowly, as he wasted away through the cold winter. Assistance was offered, but Steve sneered at such an idea, refusing to let anyone feel pity for him and insisting there was nothing for which to pity.
And in such a state, he died. Clinging to the boot, wandering in the woods. Not letting go until death and decay separated the boot from his skeletal grasp.
Moral of the story: Don't be Prideful or they'll call you Stumpy.
11 comments:
There is a great story behind that boot!
Very cool! At first glance it looks like a "granny" boot from the late 1800s or early 1900s, but it could be more modern than that. Dd used to have a pair of those cowboy boots that lace up and have the little tassle fringe thing at the toe. It could be one of those. Tell us a story Jenn! What do you think is going on with that boot? Maybe you can make it a Tall Tale Tuesday for next week:o)
Cool photo! I'd like to hear the story too!
Shannon
There is something poetic about that mossy boot that appeals to this mostly barefoot gal.
Interesting photo! Happy WW!
Man, I've missed you!
Wow - the pressure! At the moment, there is no story other than "Oh, Look! A boot!" while hiking around my husband's family's olllllld house. But yes, this does need a story. Let me get a little tipsy and then perhaps I can come up with something creative.
Aw, Jennie, you have no idea! It's been a long month of wondering about you!
Very cool pic :)
I gave you an award ;)
Once upon a time, there was a man named Steve. Steve was a good man, but he suffered from a bad case of pride. Though he was poorer than dirt and always had been, Steve managed to put on airs that left people wondering if perhaps he was from a rich background and only recently down on his luck from an unfortunate investment. But even this generous opinion was not enough for poor Steve. He would not be satisfied until he left the impression of current wealth. To do this, he knew he must dress richly. His clothing, he washed regularly so that it always looked tidy. But his shoes gave him away every time. They were falling apart and the soles flapped as he walked, giving a nice breeze to his toes. He had to find new shoes.
Alas, the pride was so strong in him, that he fell prey to temptation. Rather than pay his bills or feed his family, Steve spent his very last penny on a fine pair of leather boots. His family kicked him out of the house and he was left to wander, hungry.
He grabbed a bite here and there, as well as he could, but he refused to sleep in a shelter where he might be seen with the lowly homeless and taken for one of them. Instead, he wandered into the country at night and searched for warm hideaways for shelter.
Sadly, this only lasted a few short weeks before a freakish cold snap blew in and left him freezing in the cold. He suffered frostbite in his left foot and the entire foot had to be removed. Oh, the irony! Still, he refused to relinquish the boots. They could be sold for a morsel, but no. He had sacrificed all for these boots and he would not give them up. He carried one close to him with his right hand while his left hand held the crutch that now helped him walk.
He wandered the countryside, slowly, as he wasted away through the cold winter. Assistance was offered, but Steve sneered at such an idea, refusing to let anyone feel pity for him and insisting there was nothing for which to pity.
And in such a state, he died. Clinging to the boot, wandering in the woods. Not letting go until death and decay separated the boot from his skeletal grasp.
Moral of the story: Don't be Prideful or they'll call you Stumpy.
bahahahaha! Good moral!! ;)
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