Not Hot, Not Cool...

At best I'm "lukewarm." Not referring to the air temp. here. More like my "got-it'-goin'-on" factor.

The Sheep struggles somewhat with the dichotomy of inner child vs. grown up that lurks within. I get up each morning and take a time-release form of ritalin to control the ADD and chase it with 600mgs of calcium to fight the battle of the brittle bones. On my drive to work I'm blasting my favorite mix CD which features The Blackeyed Peas urging me to "Pump It" only to be followed by The Buggles lamenting how "Video Killed The Radio Star." At home I'm watching cartoons while knitting away on utilitarian gray socks.

So you can see where I sometimes may struggle a bit with the wardrobe. I mean, I like Cher as much as the next gal, but haven't we all at one time or another looked at one of her ensembles and wanted to give her a call to remind her that, perhaps, there is a time to let go of belly-baring fashion? There is a fine line. I don't want to cross it and be the laughing stock of both the teenaged and the denture set all in one fell swoop.

Summer, however, I tend to lean a bit more to the "fun" side of dress. School is out and I don't have to worry about such things as cleavage or risque sayings that I didn't really understand when I bought the t-shirt. It's a time to take a few risks.

Today I headed out for errands and a family lunch wearing one of my favorite summer looks. It included the cutest pair of shoes that featured a wedge heel that, while not overly high, were a bit more than I usually wear. I'd worn them before without incident so I figured the odds were in my favor.

I made it through shopping and the family dining experience without incident. I even made it back to the car looking as cool as a cucumber. Somebody call Vogue!

I thought I'd won the race. But I got cocky.

I really hate making two trips from vehicle to second floor condo. I'll always try to do it in one trip. I loaded up with various groceries, craft supplies and books donated by my mother and began teetering to the door. I almost made it. Really. Then I just lost all sense of what constitutes "upright" and did a sharp lurch to the left complete with the obligatory "startle fart." (In The Sheep lexicon that is known as a "fartle.") This wouldn't have been too bad had it occurred in relative privacy. But these things never do. No...my neighbor was there to bear witness to my middle-aged reality check.

Cuz that's the way these things go when you get over confident. The only good news is that I didn't fracture my hip in the process.

I'm off to ice my knee and do an on-line search for a stylin' pair of Earth Shoes.

SA