New shoes and my dilemma

In the past week, I've gotten six new pairs of shoes. Most of them I bought when I was in Leeds, but I bought these foxy ones here. You must give an Eartha Kitt-type growl when you see these:


I know that six pairs in a week is excessive. I do agree with you. And I barely have the room to hold them, but I assure you, (just about) every single one of them was needed. I bought these four in Leeds.

Top left: My annual brown strappy summer sandal - I will wear the hell out of these shoes until September.
Top right: My old hiking boot was falling apart and Fil, who knows about these things, says this was a good buy from TK Maxx.
Bottom left: My old knee high brown boots are looking shabby. These were £10 at Leeds Market.
Bottom right: Okay, no point in these peep toe wedges, but they are damned cute and half price from George (which is Asda, Wal-Mart in the UK).

They were all bargains, but I think while in Leeds and in my frenzied and addled shopping mind, I might have been a bit hasty. The peep toe wedge felt good in the shop, but I fear I won't last the whole day in it. Ever since the 2001 accident, elevated shoes have caused me problems. I hope that wedges are okay, but not always. I think the brown gladiator sandals might be pinching me on the pinky toe. And the knee high boots are too big, bordering on way, as are the hiking boots. Even the foxy black wedges are too big. The problem lies in that I am an 8½ in US sizes -- translating to a 6½ here. But sometimes they use continental sizes and I'm somewhere between a 40 and a 41, depending on the maker. Actually, 41 is too big, but 40 is usually too small. And they don't always carry UK-sized 6½ in the shops anyway. So it's either a size 6 or 7.

So I've shown you five new pairs, but I did say there were six, and here it is -- I love it.

And here in lies a bit of a dilemma. Mil came back to Edinburgh with us -- Fillee was off at a conference and she was going to be by herself. Boy bought her ticket, which I think made her feel really chuffed, knowing that we wanted her to visit. I enjoyed by trip. As much as I love Fillee (and I do, cos he's the only one in the family remotely like me -- openly affectionate -- and we have clicked since we first met), it was nice to have Mil on her own. I felt like we bonded during her short visit.

Thursday we went to the Portrait Gallery, had a nice lunch there and went shopping. I needed new pillows for the beds, a dust pan, and some measuring spoons. She needed some new shoes, as the ones she had were rubbing her Achilles raw. She has a brand she likes and there was luckily a shop in Edinburgh selling them. She was debating which pair she liked (she saw two red pairs), when the shoe above caught her eye. She tried it on and loved it. I admired it, then tried it on, as I've been feening for a pair of green trainers for ages, and these were so great and funky. I thought a blue pair might suit Mil more and she tried those on. And in the end, she bought the two red pairs of shoes she was mulling over, the blue pair (like the ones above) AND my green pair.

Friends, I will not disclose the price, as they were a gift, but suffice to say, they were not dead cheap. I felt guilty for letting her buy them, but I did let her buy it anyway. Should I have protested more, put my foot down more? I mean, she's retired and not like she's making loads of money. And I don't want her to think that I want her visit solely for what she can buy me. I want her to visit because I like having her around. I have a feeling she's the type of person who shows her affection with presents. But I don't want her to go into debt for my sake.

Anyway, I decided to make it up by buying her some bowls she was admiring in Lakeland for her birthday. What do you think about it all?