A series of anecdotes with or without any connection to the running of a restaurant.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Every step I take...



When I was a student back in Algeria, I once hung my old boots on the wall of my campus room.
Most of my friends wondered whether I had lost my mind. Even I did not really know why I had done it.

My boots stood with me when I queued in the late summer sun to enrol at the computing department. My mother had said I was old enough to start walking on my own.
They smiled when they heard me say my name with a deep voice.

I polished them before entering the St George’s Hotel and tasting my first beer, my first Steak Tartare and asking for it to be cooked. They saw the waiter raise his eyebrows and heard the chefs laugh from the kitchen.

The first time I made love they sat quietly by the bedside. They blushed when words stumbled out of my mouth and then smiled when I made her laugh.

They were there when I crossed the sea to walk on the wrong side of the road.
When Adam cried for the first time, they danced my pride and joy.

They always rebuke me when I happen to step on somebody’s toes.
They stick firmly to the ground when I have to stand up for myself.
But they turn around and walk away in the face of unashamed ignorance.
They trip me up if I get too big for them but then pick me up when I have fallen.

My boots have travelled with me from the day I was born and will be there when I am driven to my final resting place.

You can strut, stride, swagger or even run, your boots will remember ever single step of the way!

10 Comments:

Blogger hobbes said...

ah yes, but do they smell?

9/11/05 1:24 AM  
Blogger valerie walsh said...

This brought a little tear to my eye, very touching! Your picture words paint the story so vividly.

9/11/05 3:14 AM  
Blogger Caroline said...

Great picture of your boots!

9/11/05 8:00 AM  
Blogger Cream said...

Hobbes, of course they do! They've been all over!
Val, glad I touched you! I hoped it would stir some feelings.
Pennylane, thank you. Keep visiting.
Caroline, great picture maybe but they're not my boots. Mine do not get a rest!

9/11/05 12:52 PM  
Blogger neena maiya (guyana gyal) said...

Love this post.

Great symbol, those boots. Just like a steadfast friend.

It's always good to have someone / something to let you know when you're getting too big for your boots!

9/11/05 3:12 PM  
Blogger Cream said...

GG, could have been anything from hats to knickers (Well, that's stretching it a wee bit!)
It was, as you say a symbol.

It was your "My life" post that prompted me to write this.
You stir me more than I stir myself...Thank heavens, really!

9/11/05 6:33 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

those gotta be one happy pair of boots!!!

-ok, i'm going to go make my boots happy... :)

9/11/05 7:35 PM  
Blogger Cream said...

Ale, these boots have travelled a long way and have seen all sorts!
Just let yours take you places! You'll never regret it!

9/11/05 9:53 PM  
Blogger neena maiya (guyana gyal) said...

Reminds me somewhat of the way Hans Christian Anderson took objects and told stories about them.

12/11/05 3:42 PM  
Blogger Cream said...

You are right, GG! I did look at the boots and started waffling about them... Hans is the man!

12/11/05 11:44 PM  

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