Sunday, January 6, 2019

Eric arrives for cookies for his crew! Poem: My New Shoes for a LifeTime

 Thanks Eric for stopping in to give Lochel's Cookies to your crew!
 A nice assortment for you: gingerbread men, chocolate chips, peanut butter. Some have glitter on them.

Smart! You even advertise Caddick on the back of your sweat shirt.
 At last I found shoes that fit. Bought em at Faherty's Shoe Store in Southampton, PA.
I walk around all day in these sung fitting shoes.

Bart was my salesperson. My sister Ellen was my companion.

Each time he'd fix them I'd model my shoes to the entire store.

Help help! I'm the gingerbread man. I'm running away as fast as I can.

He did finally get caught. No, I didn't eat them. He dissolved in the jaws of a quick red fox.


Do not think of the film JAWS where Robert Shaw gets et!

Remember the music?

Be sure to read the comments!

"This is the song you listen to when your mother/in/law is in the drive."

Scott and I just returned from a walk around the block. I was wearing horrible shoes as I didn't wanna get mud on them.

Now, though, here's a poem about my new shoes. God bless ya, Ruthie, hope you can write one.


I have always been a lover of shoes
When I worked for my dad in New York
I wore a pair of Braun, yes, they still
make them. It felt like rain water was getting inside
so I put a piece of cardboard inside to staunch the flow.

Sneakers by Vasquez love my feet but watch out when the
mud coats the soles.
Soakage, the only way

Nearly two hours I spent at Flaherty's
in Southampton, for their once a year
SALE that lasts the entire month
of January.

We have experts in everything!
Bug spray, hearing aids, trumpets
and tubas. Even the misshapen foot
and toes. Hammertoes my grandmother
had, where one toe takes it easy
and rests on the toe next door.

My toes have a simple problem.
One foot is Wide, the other one Reg.
Bart measured my feet.
Then began his work. An Olympian,
he charged into the Back Room
where the ingredients were stored
like at a fancy Italian restaurant.

Stretching, like on the rack
in Hunchback of Notre Dame,
comes first. I hear nothing but
the crunch of a pretzel rod
they offer up front.

Cotton pads, on, then off.
Double cotton pads, on, then off.

I walked around the store as if
modeling in the Miss America contest
Round and round goes I
on the NASCAR track.

She's won! She's won!
And here I am at home
tapping my feet to the sounds
of Psychedelic Furs. 

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