Funerals and Clogs

 

I did a funeral this morning, with a graveside, so sensible shoes were in order (heels just sink into the grass at the cemetery, and it's completely awkward when the pastor falls on her face).  I've had these shoes for almost 6 years now.  I bough them when I was in Berkeley for my graduation from seminary.  They are cute and comfortable and my favorite color.  What more do I need?  This picture also cracks me up because the hubby is always giving me a hard time about being pigeon-toed.  I didn't realize when I took the picture that my toes were pointing out.

 

Maybe I should have posted that first picture second so it could have acted as a palate cleanser for this:

 

 

Dang those are bright.  They are plastic and rubber molded clogs from the 70s, but at first glance this morning they looked like Crocs on crack.  Which is actually fun to say.  Try it a couple of times...

 

So funerals and clogs and Crocs.  Not things you generally think of in the same sentence.  ALTHOUGH, there was a guy at the funeral who caught my attention.  He had a long, gray mullet, was wearing a black shirt with flames on it, never once took his sunglasses off, even in the chapel, wore a bunch of rings and bracelets.  I was expecting something like biker boots on his feet, but turned out he was wearing clogs.  I may have giggled a little bit.  If only they had been these clogs, my day would have been complete!