Borrowed

My brother wrote a little poem ages ago which you can read here. 

And it says 'I walk across the land in another mans shoes, Trying to understand my borrowed blues'. As I think of that I think of my new slippers, which I got at a thrift sale we held at uni yesterday. Jenny said she would be ashamed to charge me for them but I think they are amazing. 

I know who donated these. My friend Emily's sister who has four little children and I'm surprised she even had time to sit down let alone wear pink triceratops slippers. And I wonder while I'm shuffling about in my house for one if she did too. I wonder like me, if she stood and did her dishes or flung them half way across the room when it was time for bed, or even plucked up the energy to take the bins out in them. These are the things I think about when walking in someone else's shoes. I try to think where else they have been, what conversations they have heard and why they weren't wanted anymore. 

Well, the answer to that might be they aren't the most practical of slippers and they really aren't good for stairs or four children (I presume). 

I hope my slippers are happy in their new home, as I begin my own journey in someone else's shoes. 


Happy Blipping.