I would like to introduce you to my boots. That’s them in the picture. At the start of every winter I buy myself a pair of boots. They must meet the following criteria – they must be comfortable, lovely to look at, suitable to wear with the majority of my winter wardrobe, and tough. These criteria are all essential as the boots will be worn pretty much every day through the winter. Now, as we head towards the start of warmer weather (she says somewhat optimistically for February), I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that soon these boots will have reached the end of their time as head boots. They will go into the shoe cupboard to join some of the other boots from previous years that have been kept for occasional outings, but next year some other boots will step up and take on the role of head boots. I wonder if they will be able to live up to the high standard set by this year’s boots? It’ll be a tough job because, I can assure you, this year’s boots have been really good boots. The best. They have never let me down (apart from that one time at Oxford Street tube station when they tripped me up climbing the stairs, but we don’t talk about that anymore). We’ve shared a lot together…
We’ve run and walked and jumped and climbed and skipped (when nobody’s looking) together. Through rain and snow and sleet and wind and sun. We’ve stood patiently waiting on train platforms and in line at the supermarket. We’ve watched films at the cinema and walked round museums and parks and along the seafront. We’ve jumped excitedly in mud at the side of the football field cheering for my son’s school team. We’ve driven children to school and me to work. We’ve sat in dentist’s chairs and hairdresser’s chairs and coffee shop chairs. We’ve kicked things like leaves and stones and footballs. We’ve walked on grass and road and sand and stone and tile and gravel and carpet. And we’ve shopped.
My boots have heard me laughing and crying and singing and shouting and whispering. They’ve supported me through auditions and stopped me slipping on ice. They’ve been witness to birthday, Christmas and New Year preparations. They’ve been with me on visits to friends and relatives. They’ve been complimented “Nice boots!”.
Yep, we’ve done a lot together me and my boots, and not once have they hurt my feet, or leaked, or sustained any cracks, scuffs or worn patches.
And all of that is the reason why I would like to publicly say “Thank you boots, you’ve done me proud”.