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Photo by Mikael Cho on Unsplash |
Other than a fly pair
of mint green mesh and suede pumas, a meh leather pair of pink and brown pumas
and a random pair of white Reebok Classics, I’ve never really bought and worn sneakers.
I figured I don’t
really need them, although there have been periods where I tried to be athletic
and walk the 0.8 miles around my apartment complex. Thank God for the footwear
I happened to have. But for the most part I’ve always been a heels and boots,
sandals and flip-flops type of woman because I’m usually not that casual.
So this past Saturday
was an Old Navy flip-flop day. It was also a sporadically rainy day, partly a
precursor to Hurricane Florence, I suppose. I rode with my cousin to our little
rural hometown so she could pick up her mom and drive her to Richmond for a
weeklong staycation. It was also a little road trip and outing for us, too.
Her mom’s house is
situated in the middle of a huge family plot flanked by the woods, some flowery
bushes with occasional roses, peonies and figs, tall pine trees and three other
homes. On any given day, it isn’t unusual to find any of us crossing backyards
to and fro from one house to the next and back again. On any given day except this
past Saturday, that is.