For most of my working/corporate life, I maintained two distinctly separate wardrobes: one side of the closet for work clothes, one side for play. There was little-to-no interchangeability between them. And then there were the shoes... I won't claim to have been competing with Imelda Marcos, or even Sara (!), but I did love shoes and had many pairs, each in its own box, consisting mainly of "pumps" of every color and heel height for work. Today, I still maintain two distinctly separate sets of clothes: one set that is presentable in public, and the other set for working in the vineyard, garden, or with the animals.

My work clothes are what I tend to reach for first in the morning, even for times like right now while I'm "up in my office, working" on my iMac. There are t-shirts of every color, long sleeved and short, including many with old corporate logos and project slogans. Hand-me-down t-shirts from old work-friends. Jeans that have frayed and old chinos that I just don't want to wear "out" anymore make their way to my work-clothes pile. But the shoes... that's the theme for this posting.

Out in the garage, in the single-car bay that houses much of our farm equipment and Wally (our John Deere Gator), is a rack of shoes. They are mostly mine, a few of John's, and there are even a few stray pairs left by various in-laws! There are a few pairs of my work boots, a few pairs of old sneakers and clogs, old flip flops, and then there are my Wellies.

Who knew, when I said "I do," that my favorite pair of shoes would be my blue Lands' End Wellie boots? I slip them on at least twice a day, all year long. With or without socks, in shorts or long pants, and occasionally even while wearing a skirt.

With Jackie, our (now deceased) black ram lamb. Jeans tucked into Wellies.

They are comfortable, even for hours at a time. My feet stay reasonably warm, but don't overheat. My feet easily slip in and out of them, they have good traction, and they keep my feet dry. I even keep an extra pair around for visitors who volunteer to work, including my parents. 

Mom, in my spare pair, preparing the wine bottles

Dad, wearing my Wellies in the vineyard

My Wellies are the outdoor version of my favorite comfy slippers. Who knew how far from my shoe-crazy roots I would fall? Or maybe, in a more enlightened way of thinking, I could ask who knew how far I would progress? And who knew that I would still feel just as attractive and engaging in my Wellies as in my high heels?! (And I think John agrees :-)

Toasting our 22nd wedding anniversary last week just after
we finished crushing and pressing the grapes for the 2011 Rosé.