My shoes are set in space.

I like shoes as much as the next person, but not overly a lot and I dislike Mischa Barton as much as the next person, usually Jo, definitely overly a lot. So I was caught of guard when Shoe Fate happened between me and a pair of Keds on Saturday. Susan and Jo both understand Shoe Fate, this I'm sure of. Apparently my grandfather and father don't; they really laughed a lot when I explained the Shoe Fate to them. They also made fun of my new purse and then laughed harder when I tried to explain to them that ten purses weren't too many for one girl.

"Are you really writing in your blog about shoes, dear Toni?", you might be asking yourselves. The more salient question is "Did you seriously take time out of your evening to take pictures of your shoes?"

The answer to both is, of course, a resounding yes.

In other bipedal news, after three long months and one long scar, my dad is walking around again, with some assistance and is terribly proud of himself. As am I. He's doing so well that he may not even need physical therapy.