It is officially sock weather.
The sun rose low, red and glowing. Casting an eerie glow on the water, it caught my eye while making coffee this early Saturday morning, and I realized I was cold.
I very rarely wear shoes in the summer, and the most I'll allow on my feet is a Dr. Scholl's sandal. Maybe it's a reflection of my stance against the cold, having feet held hostage all winter with thick heavy socks and cumbersome boots. Even spring boasts the need for a shoe with heel and panty hose. But summer is the season for bare feet and bare legs, baring souls and open hearts.
Autumn is in the air and it is chilly when I first put my feet on the floor. No need for the furnace as of yet, but I can feel it will be soon. I draw close my bathrobe, a homemade Christmas gift to me. The first year in the family, courtesy of my soon to be sister in law, she smiled and said For those early mornings on the lake. It quickly became my favorite piece of clothing, and it is well worn and much loved.
I pull on a pair of oversized socks and my thoughts are drawn back to my old days as a Pastoral Business Manager for several churches. Another time and another lifetime ago, I remember the man who made a hobby of socks. Gone nearly three years, he was a stately gentleman, a retired Professor of English.
Every Sunday, while processing down the aisle to begin Mass, he would stop me and stick his leg out. Clad in whatever silly socks he could find, he would grin and whisper to me How 'bout them babies, eh Missy? I would then show him whatever I was wearing, a contest of who could make the other laugh first. He usually won. *
The floors in my house are carpeted, although threadbare in places, used from breaking in puppies and kitties.
That's okay says my beloved. We'll show the bare wood next year when everybody is finished.
I smile because I know that it is part of the cycle of our life together. Slowly weeding out the old that I brought with me and working around what was here when I arrived. As time goes by, we'll find a midpoint and agree on what can be saved, what needs to be put away. Memories, both old and new, have a special place on the mantle of our hearts.
It is okay. I am content to wear socks and slippers just a while longer before the need to encase my feet in rubber soled boots once again.
Our hearts are warm.
