On Saturday, Mirinda dropped into the cobbler on the high street and asked him if he could replace the soles on a pair of runners that had seen better days. He said yes, depending on the runners. So, today, having gone to Waitrose first thing, I went into Lymington with my old, battered runners.
Something I’ve noticed is how I’m getting recognized more often as I make my way around Lymington. For instance, walking to Waitrose, there’s the dog walkers and the fellow shoppers but also school kids on their way to school. It’s very rare to get a smile or a hello from teenagers, but it’s starting to happen to me. Maybe they think I looked like their grandad.
Anyway, walking into town with my shoes, I spotted a couple of dog walkers I recognized, and we chatted about the weather and our dogs, before I reached the cobbler.
On my way, I spotted this building which I’d not taken much notice of before. And its intriguing sign.
In 1846, the Lymington Literary Institute met in this building. Nine years ago, it was Tony’s Dance Studio. I haven’t been able to find out anything else about it. Though, it looked pretty deserted today.
Anyway, the cobbler took one look at my old, battered and worn runners and shook his head. “Beyond repair,” Were the actual words he used.
I carried my old, worn runners back to the house again.
I should explain the reason why I was taking him the shoes. They are the only shoes I can wear that don’t press on the wounded bunion. They are ridiculously comfortable. Apart from the soles. I feel everything I walk on. And they leak if I step into a puddle.
Of course, given all the rain we’ve had, I’m gradually getting webbed feet.
I’m going to see a foot doctor on Wednesday so, fingers crossed, she can direct me to some appropriate shoes. And, in the meanwhilst, I’ll keep wearing the battered pair.
