Monday, March 30, 2009
Legs, boots, disappointment
If you saw my legs you would not freak out, screaming and covering your eyes and weeping, "How does she have such enormous calves??? HORRIBLE!" while trying to shield the faces of the children. You might, if you weren't very kind, suggest that I eat slightly fewer chocolate macaroons. Shopping for riding boots (not just the kind of wear around to look lurvely, the kind of actual riding of horses) is making me feel like a freak. I want the cheapoid rubber riding boots so I can wash horses and get trodden on and ride and slodge through fields of mud and muck and rescue the spaniel from the alsatian who wants to eat him without worrying about my feet. Dover's ladies rubber boots (which are awfully cute) are two inches thinner than my poor little legs. All research has yielded very little. Sigh. If you know of any alsatian wrestling, mud hoping, bath giving boots that one can ride in that might fit my chubby legs, alert me pronto. Thanks.