The swelling has gone down quite a bit, too, and we've come to an uneasy agreement: as long as subject it to no twisting or lateral movements whatsoever, it keeps the pain down to a dull throb.

I can live with that.

I'm even managing to walk with less of a hobble. I just concentrate on keeping my toes pointing perfectly forward, and go very, very carefully. I imagine I look like an adolescent venturing forth in her first pair of high heels. This, despite that fact that at this point, heels are out of the question for me. Turning corners are the hardest, and avoiding furniture that seems to leap into the way between me and where I am going. I supposed I should have left more straight-line pathways when I was arranging it in the first place. Just didn't think, did I?

Actually, I've was thinking about my first pair of high heels a couple of weeks ago. They were sandals, wedgies, with wooden soles and woven straps of brown leather. I had wanted the ones with the wavy soles, but the only models they had in my size were too expensive, especially since my feet showed every signs of continuing to grow. I was around twelve years old, and I think they only grew half a size after that, though, but by the time we figured out that my feet had finished wavy soles were way out of style. By then I wanted punk boots, which Mom refused to get me and I had to purchase out of baby-sitting money. They were worth every penny, too. I wore those things for years.

I had to practice around the house for a full week before my mother deemed me ready to go make a fool of myself in public. Oddly enough, I don't remember falling off of them or otherwise embarassing myself, shoe-wise. Which is doubly strange when you consider that I was even more of a klutz then than I am now, and that in the last few years I've experienced more shoe-related accidents than I care to remember.

Oh, and my feet hadn't quite finished growing yet, either: I gained another half a size at the age of 31, although I think that's due more to spreading out, as opposed to gaining length.

That's the worst thing about getting older, I think. Spreading Out. Sometimes, I think it's the only bad thing.

Other than that, it's still hot here, although perhaps not as hot as it has been. Still too hot to cook, however.

Oh, and I almost forgot why I was thinking of my first pair of high heeled shoes: I saw them, the exact same pair, for sale in a shop window.

There's entirely too much deja vu going on in the fashion world today. Will the youth of today never learn?

Although I saw in a recent glossy fashion mag that 80s clothing is coming back into style.