Curse of the Dead Woman's Shoes

It was early spring when I went garaging with my daughter and found the perfect sale. It was late in the day, the guy was hot and tired so most everything was free. I found a few blouses that were his mom's and a dress. But there on the truck bed ready to go the thrift store was a shoe box. At first they just looked like granny shoes but at a closer look the tan loafers were as close to new as you could get ,Velcro closing and my Big Foot size. I took them home and never wore them until just recently. For some reason I believe in wearing your shoes out and not having a million pair, unlike my daughter who loves shoes for all reasons and seasons.

I began wearing the loafers a couple of months ago to break them in and noticed that occasionally I would get shocked reaching for a can of peaches or a magazine. I blamed it on the floors. It didn't take long for my 2 grandchildren to notice that touching grandma sometimes was quite electric. I made fun of my granny shoes; paid no respect to the poor soul who never got to wear them out. We narrowed down the Land of Shock to Target Superstores and Wal Mart. I had vowed recently to stop wearing them shopping but yesterday I ignored the warnings in my head and wore them to a quick trip to Wal Mart.

Proceeding with caution I received only a few nips from the shelves and a sting or two from freezer door handles. Then, I saw her. A sweet, smiling woman who was sheepishly leaning in to get a large can of beer. She turned and saw me watching her nervousness so I quickly told her I bet she was afraid of being shocked. I pointed to my shoes and said, I know how you feel. She told me the store zaps her every time she shops there and never thought of her shoes. I told her mine were cursed...she said she bought hers used. Hmm, was the woman who first wore them still living I wondered. We laughed and returned to shopping. Minutes later as I went to open the door to retrieve a gallon of milk another hand shot out and we touched... SIZZLE, CRACKLE..POP we sent each other flying backwards each holding our hands in pain! The poor same woman and I had created quite the electical charge...the hair on our arms standing straight up! She wondered if it was the floor.. I told her my dead woman's shoe theory. I'd been disrespectful and now had the aches to show for it. We eventually laughed and vowed to never wear our special shoes to either Wal Mart or Target again. Tomorrow I got to Shopkos for a cheap pair of tennis shoes.

Life Is An Adventure

Life is an adventure. For as long as I can remember unusual things always happened; life was never as calm as those around me. I came from a dysfunctional family but I can't blame them for me propensity to draw trouble. I don't mean problem child, juvenile delinquent, troubled young woman. I mean the kind of trouble that includes falling into holes, bumping into closed doors, getting locked into bathrooms at 1:00 am.. but then, there's the good trouble. The good trouble like being there first when the horse bucked her off, when the car hit him or when she fell into a diabetic coma last April and nearly died as I laid keeping her warm. Good only due to being there when life was closest to its ebb and helping it back or ease it over. Good trouble in that all sizes of disasters can create or devastate who you are. In the most difficult of times I have chosen or God chose for me, to let them lift me up with new knowledge, new vantages of life and how delicate and unpredictable it is.

I invite you to travel down this road with me as I blog in memory and real time. I can't imagine that I have survived or experienced so much through out my entire life for it not to have some purpose or design. Fair warning that some of it is sad, frightening as well as bizarre, funny and like something from a sit-com. All you are about to read is true and in some cases, for obvious reasons, names and locations have been changed to protect the innocent.