To fly like the god Mercury

Jupiter,  the king of all the gods, had a son named Mercury. Mercury had many talents: above all he could fly faster than most of the other gods, partly because of his winged sandals.  He therefore became the messenger of the gods.



Mercury was also very trustworthy and playful enough to be interesting. He was bright and very loyal and also the best negotiator in the world. He was always cracking deals to get himself and others out of trouble.

All that is fine and dandy and, if you are lucky enough to be in Florence this fall, you might be inspired to emulate at least the winged heels of Mercury yourself.  It would be easy enough to do, for feathered shoes are easy to find right now!




Who knows, may be you can fly if you wear these pretty things.  It seems to me they’d be better in the sky than on the earth! But, that’s just me!

If the shoe fits…

I honestly have manners.  Even if it sometimes seems that I don’t.


And I was taught to never be a braggart (only my closest bffs will get the irony in that).

But, really, there’s this thing in Italy.  End of season sales.

My feet are really long and really narrow.  As in, I wouldn’t go bowling as a teen because they printed the shoe size on the back of the outside of the shoe!!?  I didn’t need that humiliation!

So, put the end of season sales together with my feet and you get (

There are two “end of season sales” periods in Italy:
– Winter sales on January;
– Summer sales on July.
Sales generally start on the first Saturday of these two months,
but every region is different.
The last sentence in that quote is hilarious.  Such an understatement.
But, anyhow, please excuse my excess, as pictured here. Shoes can be such a beautiful thing!
And once, when I was a teenager, and everything was magnified like by 100 (especially bodily defects), a salesclerk actually said to me, “well your foot wouldn’t be so big if your big toe wasn’t so long.”  And I died a million deaths that day; to that dummy wherever she is, I say, take these shoes and shove them, I don’t work here anymore.”
Okay, about the manners part…it’s an ongoing process.  A work in progress is what I like to think.
Paging Imelda Marcos, line 2.