Once upon a time, my Mom-Mom bought me a pair of cowboy boots; I was skeptical.  Cowboy boots? Me?  They were very expensive and non-returnable; being a good granddaughter would mean wearing cowboy boots, so I wore them.  I wore them so much that I wore them out but I loved them so much by that point that I couldn’t throw them out, so I packed them away in a box.  That box got moved from apartment to apartment and finally, back to my parents’ house.  Close to nine years later, my Mom was cleaning out the basement and found the boots; she took them to the shoe repairmen, who spiffed them up to look new, and then she shipped them out to me.

Well, I was… skeptical… again.  Could I really recast a retired set of boots?  Would they even work with me now?  Well, it took two weeks for me to prepare, but I finally wore them to work today.  To gain confidence, I checked with Boy to see how they looked – meaning, I stomped into his room and held out my booted leg for examination.  This might seem extreme.  It’s not.  Boy doesn’t get subtleties; he’s a boy, after all.  He, genuinely it seemed, liked how they looked.  I was not expecting a good review, as he’s told me more than once how he feels about cowboy boots (does not like them) and so, I was all the more pleased. 

Confidence gained, off to work I went. 

People I don’t know complimented me on my “look”, which is what everyone called it.  My new jeans are apparently awesome and made so by the boots, which bring my look from casual Friday to Frackin’ Fantastic.  Counting now, I had no less than four co-workers (in addition to the strangers) tell me how it looked (awesome!!!!).  My favorite moment was when Jeremy, one of the engineers, said ‘nice jeans, nice boots, nice hair – you look great’ as he was passing me on the stairway.  A run-by complimenting!  It was wonderful!  I mega-love my recast boots.