FastFreddy2

Bit harsh. But all true. There are many things that could make a man feel more like he understood the lot of a some women. For example, hold down a full time job, look after the children when he returned from work. Feed the family, then wash and put the children to bed while the lady of the house goes down the pub with her mates, returning drunk hours later. Then him experiencing a belligerent woman waking him up for sex or supper (or both) at 1am ..... A lot more realistic. Walk-a-mile-in her-shoes, if it produces charitable funding for refuges for people who suffer domestic abuse, is plainly a good cause. But the media at least, make the event seem little more than a circus. Edit for grammar.

Went to the shops today, to have a look around for new A/W season stock. This would typically be the styles I'll be hunting for in the New Year sales, if there's stock left. (I live in hope.) Retailers are getting wise to over-stocks, and are buying in less. Some stores don't sell the current season's over-stocks (NEXT, John Lewis) but tend to dig out styles they haven't sold for the previous 2-5 years instead. Zara only buy in small-ish quantities, and seldom reduce the price of footwear. When I first got back into buying womens heels, (2008) I vaguely remember some of those January sales dragging on until April. Last year, the sales were pretty much over by the end of January? Anyway, some styles seen today: (See file name for retailer). Ankle boots. Thigh boot: Courts: Of those shown, I only tried on the Zara shoes. (Nice). The River Island thigh boots were plasticky to the touch and not something for me anyway, If/when I try the others, I'll write comments here.

I'm not often dumbfounded by a situation, but I was today. I decided to return some shoes I'd bought from Schuh. They were sold as a UK8, but me and at least one other reviewer, believed them to come up a size small. eg. their EU41 was a UK7. No problem, as Schuh offer a 365 day return policy. Today I visited Bluewater, with Mrs Freddy. Not wanting to carry the shoes around, Schuh was the first shop at the mall we went to. The girl on the till, asked if she could help, and I said I wanted to return some shoes. She checked the shoes, then rang (a bell) for a supervisor to authorise the refund. He showed up, looked at the shoes too (then the receipt), and asked if there was anything wrong with them. I said no, they came up a bit on the small size. I am standing on the other side of the counter to him, wearing heels under jeans, that he can't see and hadn't noticed when I walked into the shop. So when I say the shoes come up a bit small, his reply is; "They weren't for you were they, something-for-the-weekend?" My immediate response is; 'mind your own', but I don't feel the need to embarrass someone who is plainly an idiot. I remain silent, wondering if I should blab the truth. Eventually he moves on and says it's okay to refund. The till girl actions the refund, and asks me to put the card in I paid with. I tell her it was a cash sale ..... and remind her the penny on the counter was to round up the refund to make it a paper money refund only. "Oh yes" she says. Then calls another supervisor to authorise the refund? And she tells the girl (like we are not there) "Ask them for a penny" etc etc. We get the refund, and leave. I may well be adding Schuh to the small number of "do not visit" shops to my list. Barratts, and Faith were also on that list. How well are they doing these days? (For our international friends, Barratts has I think gone bust twice in the last 5 years, or is it 3 times? A tiny fraction of their shops remain. Faith went bust 3 or 4 years ago. The brand name lives on, but it isn't Faith as we knew it. It's now a name on a range of not-very-attractive shoes found in some Debenhams stores.) ......

Toronto >> update << It's not pretty ......

Part II: ~ Preparation [2] The choice of shoe selection, had become something of an enigma. I had bought and tried some heat-shrink tubing on a pair of ALDO heels a week or so earlier. I'd ordered several sizes, to see how the material would perform when shrunk with hair-drier grade temperatures, and to test how effective it would be at preventing scuffs. The material was tried on a shoe that had already been damaged and the result when treated with shoe-wax then polished, wasn't too bad. While the edge of the material was clearly visible when viewed at short distance (less than 2ft) in good daylight, it was imperceptible in poor light or at usual viewing distances. (6ft+) If I were to wear slim heels, I would need smaller diameter heat shrink than I had already bought, so I ordered some up. Would it arrive in time? Certainly there was no way I would visit Victoria in stiletto's without some sort of protection on the heel, or damage to them would be a guaranteed event. The smaller diameter heat shrink arrived 'on the day'. I spent some time trying to shrink the material off the shoes first. Shrinkage seemed to be a bit hit and miss on the first lengths of material, but grew more consistent further along the tube. I cut some to length, and used it on some suitable thin heeled shoes. It looked to work okay. Given how important the shoes were (and are), I used a second piece of tube on each shoe, effectively doubling the protection. Not only would this allow 2 scuffs per shoe before a third scrape would be needed to remove material, but a double skin would help prevent possible impact damage too. When polished and buffed, the effect was very good. At distance it looked like the semi-satin finish of polished leather. While the effectiveness of the protection was so far untried by me, I finally had some thin heeled shoes as a choice. Further into the day, I selected the three pairs I would take with me. The high and energy sapping, ASOS boots. Block heels, no heel protection. These would be the last resort/backup choice. Completely suitable for the terrain around Victoria station, and quite well disguised. The downside would be the rise, and the tightness around the ankle. While pleasant to wear, they become hard work because of the tight/stiff leather around the ankle. A long walk in these, certainly provides something of a lower leg workout. If I got cold feet about wearing a heel out in daylight, or it rained, these would be my choice. The comfy and high ALDO shoe boots. More of a thick stiletto heel, with some protection. I've walked some considerable distances in these before, at least once for 2 miles in a single outing, with no problems to my feet. They are a slightly loose fit on my foot, but have a reasonably high heel. While the frontal style appears quite unisex - verging on male, the heel makes it a very feminine style. If I had a disaster (broke a heel on the way to the theatre from the car), these would be my spares, or second choice. The KG Saints, a completely untried shoe, and very hard to walk in. Slim/high, now with x2 layers of heat-shrink protection. These are another; saved-for-something-special shoes. I had checked on the day, and all 3 pairs I would be taking had pretty much the same height heel. There literally was, no more than 2mm between them. The difference with this pair was, the toe-box pushed the toe upward, making them feel higher. (A delicious feeling!) As long as it didn't rain, these would be the shoes I wore. All three pairs were readied, as was my selection of clothes to wear. I still needed to get clean, and maybe have a quick sandwich before leaving, but everything I could prepare - was prepared.

Part 1: ~ Preparation. [1] The venue is located in a part of London I haven't passed for some time, Victoria. I used see the station en route South, many many years ago. Never a place I enjoyed going to, because the road system is a complete mess. It needs an organisation with some foresight (and a lot of money) to completely change how the area works. Hateful place. The theatre is right next to the rail and underground station, which doubtless makes it easy to access for locals (Londoners), but less easy for us folk who live in the Home Counties outside of the London Transport System. Two return train fares add around £50 to the cost of the evening, where car travel might add £10. Not a hard choice? Well, not if you can get parked. As is the case around most UK transport systems these days (though not so 30+ years ago) car users are treated as 'cash cows' by local government. You are encouraged to use public transport, but parking near a rail station costs a LOT of money. With the show starting at 7.30pm, I would have an hour after the 6.30pm charging period ended, to find a free space and get to the theatre if I intended to keep the transport costs low. Google is enormously helpful for this. I was able to view the area in detail using satellite imagery, and locate suitable parking areas by using the Streetview facility, just as I had done when visiting the Barbican. A road around 200 yards from the venue was selected, and one or two alternatives in the same area but further out. I elected to do a dry run before the actual night to check on transit times, and find out just how easy it would be to find parking on the night. With an investment of £90 on tickets, it would be a shame to miss the start of the show, or worse, miss it all because I couldn't find a parking space! With all other opportunities run out, I did the dry run the night before. The journey was a little more than 30 miles, but took the better part of two hours! With most traffic going out of London and me going in, you could be forgiven for thinking the route should be clear, but it wasn't. Junctions were full, roundabouts clogged. It was a frustratingly slow journey. In the great scheme of things, this didn't much matter, it just meant I had to start the important journey that much earlier. The junctions around the station were worse than ever. At the moment there is a huge amount of roadworks going on, with high boarding hiding most of the few useful landmarks. As I approached Victoria, I quickly passed the junction I was looking for, and found myself driving past the station, past the theatre, on the road across the bridge South to Brighton. I turned off as soon as I could, and eventually weaved my way back through back streets to the junction I had passed. When I arrived, I found a space in the area I had hoped I could park the car. In fact, after a short while, there were a good number of spaces in my selected road. Result! Walking back up to the main junction outside the station, I made visual notes of the boarding colour and position, where I would need to turn off at the following night...... It was easily missed, and I was not surprised I had passed the turning during the trial run. But then the whole purpose of the trial run was to iron out problems like this. The theatre wasn't as obvious as I had thought either. When driving past earlier, I had passed the rear of the theatre, though this was far from obvious as it was as well lit as the front. The real entrance to the theatre was actually 20 yards from the exit of Victoria rail station, which was handy as by this time, a visit to a toilet was necessary. At 30p if you don't mind. Unusually, I had some change with me..... With road works producing temporary repairs to both roads and paths, with the occasional Victorian era cobbled space too, the walk from the car to the theatre was an obstacle course. Wearing a thin heel could only produce a damaged thin heel. It was a conclusion hard to avoid. Some might think that a careful foot here, a careful foot there ..... But this is the lead area to a very busy station, and walking slowly would be a luxury. It also assumed travel times would allow the luxury of a slow walk with foot placement checked before use? No, a thin heel was almost certainly going to lead to tears. .....

Part V - Epilogue. (The Final Chapter. ) I have mentioned it before, probably more than once, that I loved the style and fit of these SELECT court shoes. I'd owned them for a while (3-4 years maybe) but had never worn them out. As a general remark, I'd say I wear high heeled shoe boots and ankle boots, to the exclusion of every other style. These shoes had been 'saved' for a special occasion, and a visit to a theatre qualified. There was a time I could wear hose (actually stockings at the time ), and keep a court shoe on my foot; but not any longer..... I HAD to wear them with naked feet, or risk kicking them off with every step. The flash of my lilly white skin -not seen the Sun for perhaps 4 years- was probably an unexpected highlight to anyone with their eyes open. I wasn't going to do any parading, so wearing them was going to be an exciting challenge. On the night, everything went well until the last. The shoes, and in them my feet, unexpectedly had to do significantly more than planned. Sadly, it would seem the quality of the shoe might not have been up to the job. One of the seams has a small protrusion, and it's right next to a highly mobile part of my foot. With the extended walk that was easily 4 times further than expected, what might have started as a blister, became a groove in my skin. On the up side, skin heals, and mine did. But the shoes will not be worn again by me, and here is why: Current condition of right shoe: Current condition of left shoe: So not only wasn't my foot up to the challenge (in these shoes) it rather looks like the shoes weren't up to it either? Some will think, "What do you expect from a cheap shoe?" My answer might be something along the line of; "More than wearing them once probably." Uniquely for footwear, the uppers look more worn than the soles and heels. Perhaps there was something wrong with the material, who knows. But these are destined for the charity shop now. Not unusually for me, I have a second unused/new pair. At the moment I have no idea what to do with them. My choices are: i) Keep them as a style guide to sourcing a better quality replacement. ii) Sell them. (Might make £3 or £4.) iii) Give them to a charity shop; 'as new' and let them get the £3 or £4 for them. iv) Do option (i) followed by option (iii). At the moment, option (iv) is winning. Would I wear a court shoe out again? Probably, but not to the Barbican. ......

The deed is done. And if I thought 'The Outing' was stressful, I had noooooooo idea!

Shyguy School Report 2013: Must try harder.

"Out of the mouth of babes ...... " Bless him! I've a 10 and 35 year old to concern myself with. I don't mind either of them knowing ...... Mrs Freddy though ......

I missed going yesterday as expected. Mrs Freddy has some time off next week, so maybe I'll re-schedule.

The (arsehole) seller didn't refund until I escalated the case to the auction management. Once done, a refund was quite quickly made. He was a liar to the last, having promised me an "immediate refund on receipt and satisfactory check", I waited nearly a week for him to do a refund before using the auction 'procedures' to force a refund. The bike arrived (I subsequently found out when repacking) with corrosion on the eyelets of the spoked wheels, and discoloured paint from a user attached fixture that had chemically affected the paintwork. I also found more scuffing on the handlebars, through poor packing, added to the damaged seat and rear caliper I already knew about. "As new". While the seller and I were 'in dispute', he said my recommendations on packing were "childish". This coming from a fella who bubble-wrapped the RUBBER tyres, but put nothing on the spokes, then left the wheels loose in the package. He also wrapped up the two metal pedals in tape, and left them loose in the package as well. The caliper was scuffed because he used aluminium covered pipe insulation as a packing filler. Movement from what would have been a 230 mile (if direct) journey minimum, had unprotected parts damaged during the journey as the aluminium skin scratched parts while it moved around inside the package. When re-packed, every part on the bike had at least two layers or shrinkwrap to prevent chaffing. Every part had been wrapped in 2 to 4 layers of 12mm bubble-wrap. All the bubble-wrap was held secure by tape (4 rolls) and re-shrinkwrapped. The spoked wheels were fully protected, supported, and taped/shrinkwrapped to the bike frame. Nothing could move. Protruding parts (forks, cranks) had addition packing material taped and shrinkwrapped in place. The pedals were secured in place too. A bucket of hardcore could have been been left in the large packing box, and nothing would have been damaged. I even labelled the packing box to ensure it was transported upright as it should have been originally. (The original package was delivered on its end, and may have caused some of the scuffing on unprotected parts). Even the packing box was shrink-wrapped and taped twice. It took a loooooong time to pack, but I could be sure that unless a vehicle drove over the package, the bike would arrive back in the same condition it arrived here, without any further transit damage. I could also be sure, it would take the better part of an hour to unwrap the bike again. Mrs Freddy has banned me from (immediate) further bike purchases ......

Part IV. (Disaster B.) Of course reading this, you will already know there's a kick to the tale. Had I known too ..... The West End of London on a warm Friday evening, means the place is busy, and I mean at least as busy as it is during the day. In some places, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus for example, even busier. This was a warm Friday evening ..... It took a little while to park, but I found a space. Thought there was an unusually large police presence, until I realised I'd parked almost in front of a police station. Having put on my ASOS heels, we began walking toward Leicester Square, and a couple of cafés we know and like. The walk started quite promisingly, for me at least. Reaching the junction of Charing Cross Road and Cranbourn Street, we crossed to Leicester Square. It was almost a fight to cross, as traffic lights produced a road filled with vehicles, and slow moving hordes of revellers having to squeeze between them. Our first preferred café was busy and ready to burst. Disappointed, but increasingly unsurprised, we moved on. Not that we wanted to hurry anyway, but moving through the throng of people wasn't easy. I missed several opportunities to photograph well-dressed well-heeled women, but I did get one or two of them. When we reached the other side of the Square, closer to Piccadilly Circus, the noise from traffic moving down toward the Haymarket seemed to increase enormously. Eventually, the traffic and the difficulty negotiating groups of people oblivious to fellow pedestrians, made walking any further extremely unattractive. We decided to turn back. We'd walked perhaps a half a mile from the car, but it had been a noisy and fairly unpleasant journey, despite the balmy evening. Just a we turned around, I was sure I could feel rain landing on me? None was expected as far as I could remember, and the warm evening made rain seem unlikely. I guided my companion toward some shelter, just in case. As we arrived to stand under a canopy, 'the heavens opened', and I mean Class 1 monsoon grade water. Us standing there in light summer clothing, a half a mile from the car ..... A few people walked past, mostly men, wet through from the tops of their head to mid-chest level. As I had a partial change of clothes in the car, it was starting to look like I might have to do the gentlemanly thing: Get half drowned retrieving the car, change, and come back for my companion? For a while, there seemed to be no let up at all. It wasn't all bad news. 'The view' was pleasant. After what felt like at least 15 minutes, the monsoon seemed to subside a little, enough for one of the group under the shelter, to take a chance in the lighter rain ..... Barefoot. As my view cleared , another form of entertainment arrived. A man disguised as Lucifer? (Well, hopefully a man and not the real thing. ) Red rubber from head to toe, with no other visible attire, except a red rubber hat with horns ..... And some red platform boots!!! He didn't hang about for long, and as the rain began to subside further, we elected to risk it too. We began our walk back to the parked car, and with the pavements now awash, I was glad to be wearing boots. The air had cooled slightly, and the crowds had thinned, so our walk was brisker. We made better time with our return journey, but were a little damper than with our outbound walk. If we had tried to make it back to the car without seeking shelter first, we both would have arrived at the car soaking wet. Our patience had paid off. Feeling a little relieved about staying dry (for the most part), we quit while we were still in front, and left London to go home. Extracting ourselves from the immediate area by car was slow, and quite dangerous for a pedestrian who walked out suddenly in front of us. We all lived (unscathed), to tell the tale. The rest of the journey was uneventful, and I was thankful for it.

Mmmmm. It didn't feel as bad as it might look. I have to say, it was a hole that didn't want to heal quickly, because of its position on my foot. eg. On the bit that bends with every step. In both my heeling life, and my wearing-men's-shoes life, I almost never wear anything on my feet without a sock or some hose protecting my skin. I have some jellies, and some 'proper' walking sandals I might wear naked while on holiday, and that's it. This was the very first time I have worn heels with naked feet. Mrs Freddy does it all the time though, even when wearing boots? From a fella who should know (has shop) I'm told double socks (double hose) should prevent all chaffing turning into blisters, and is the basis for the design of the "1000 Mile Socks" brand. Consequently, I often wear two pairs of ankle hose, in high heeled boots that are snug. (My preferred fit.) The SELECT shoes fitted like gloves for the first couple of hours, but all the (fast) walking may have heated my feet and warmed the shoes enough to allow movement. Certainly they were a struggle to keep them on later, and I don't remember that being a problem early on. More detail about them in Part V - Epilogue.

Sounds like the perfect woman.

Seen at the Wicked on Tour opening night ...... More >> here <<

Part III. (Disaster A.) So we are back at the car. I'm sat in a space that's been reserved, because I have a Blue Badge holder with me. It also means, I get free parking, and given the expense of the evening (60 mile round trip by car, food, drinks, tickets) any saving is very welcome. I'm still in my stiletto courts, despite being parked only about 4 or 5 metres from the security chap looking after the car parks, sat in his office studiously reading a paper watching the CCTV monitors.... We drive to the barrier, and I speak to the chap I've just watched in his office. I bleep the 'help' button, and say I've got free parking. "No problem" he says, use the free pass I was given earlier to get out. "I didn't get a free pass" I reply. "Well you should have been given one when you collected your tickets", I'm told. My reply was, that I had no 'exit' ticket, and what was I to do? The answer was to go to the coat-room check-in, and get the pass I should have been given earlier. Now given I had spoken to someone at the theatre earlier -twice- about this space and my entitlement, I had also spoken (possibly to the same guy) when I arrived about 'free parking', plus the tickets and parking space were booked as a single item, I'm not overly happy I've got a problem. I drive back to my original parking space. The coat room is possibly 50+20 yards away. Not that I feel the need to walk further in high heeled courts, I decide to keep them on. (Mistake.) Parked, I leave the car and walk back into the fairly empty foyer, past some dawdlers toward what I find is an empty and barren coat room. Having heard voices from behind the closed Bar as I passed it on the way to the coat room, I go back and knock on the locked entrance door. Who should answer, but the girl that had noticed my shoes and smiled, earlier. I explain the situation, and she says I need to go up to the ticket counter. This is (technically) up one floor, but is at the far side of the building from where I am. It's up two flights of stairs, and along a fairly long (carpeted) walkway. At this time I realise my phone is in the car, but this journey shouldn't take long, so I start walking. I'm in heels, walking across a hard wooden floor, with about 15-20 people milling around including staff. I doubt anyone missed the sound. Up the stairs, almost losing my shoes on every step. More people, but carpet so I'm attracting less attention. I get to the ticket counter - empty. So I walk back to the Bar. Carpet, stairs, noisy flooring. Fewer people still, but I'm almost parading now. Worse, I'm starting to notice I might be getting a blister on my left foot. Trying to walk fast (it's getting late) isn't helping. At the Bar door, I knock again. Same girl opens the door, I explain the ticket counter was unmanned too. Realising I'm getting desperate, she radio's for the Duty Manager. He's "elsewhere", so I'm told I need to go to the front door, to get a pass from the security chap there. I know where that is, as I only just walked most of the way there .... so I thank the girl and get walking. Back across the noisy floor. Up two flights of stars. Along the carpeted walkway. THEN out to an upper foyer, around a corner, up a rise, and finally to the main security office. I'm now close to the entrance of the car park, one floor up and about 150 yards from my car - if I'm daft enough to walk down the steep concreted ramp into the building. I explain my problem to the chappy. Okay says he, no problem, where is the Blue Badge holder? In the car, says I. Do you have the Blue Badge? In the car, with the Blue Badge holder, says I. Do you have the ticket for your time in the theatre this evening? In the car with everything else, says I. And it's about now, I'm telling the chappie this is going a long way to blight my evening, and can't he just ask the people who told me to come see him, about the exit pass? Which he then does. With him then agreeing to provide the pass, he wants all my personal details. I offer him some, which I think is enough. "I'm only doing my job", says he, and I mention I'm here in front of him, through no fault of my own either! So he gives me the ticket, and says "I hope you don't have the same problem next visit". I assure him, there'll be no next visit, and tell him I'll be back in 5 minutes with the Blue Badge holder. "Oh, no need" he says .... I begin my long walk back. Down toward the ticket office, past it, then along the carpeted floor to the top of the stars. By this time, I know I've got something of a problem with my left foot. Down the stairs being careful not to kick my shoes off. Across the almost - but not quite - empty/wide theatre foyer, and finally to the exit door. Again. 50 yards later, I'm back at the car and my companion is standing next to it. The 20/25 minute wait sat in the car has not helped her new hip, (on top of the time sat in the theatre) and she is standing to ease the discomfort. She is also wondering if I got lost or had been involved in an accident somewhere? We are quickly out of the building, and I drive to the front door with my companion. We take the tickets, and the Blue Badge to the security office. I introduce my companion, and I show both theatre tickets and Blue Badge to him. He insists showing him wasn't necessary (and by this time, relief has put me in a better humour) and I say jokingly, "I didn't want you going home and having a sleepless night, worrying about giving away exit passes when you thought you shouldn't have?" Everyone is in a better frame of mind, we leave and drive away. We decide the night is still young, and as it's warm, we head off toward the West End. The plan is to have a coffee out, before heading home. En route, my left foot is (finally) causing me some pain, so I pull over to have a look. This is the result of all the unplanned extra walking, not just in new shoes, but me without any hose on my feet to prevent chaffing. This picture was taken a couple of days into the healing process, of a wound that took nearly two weeks to fully heal. Thankfully I had a third set of footwear in the car, some high block heels from ASOS. No need to worry about heels-down-cracks with those. We set off again, resuming the short journey westward.

Hidden, right up until I take a step forward ....... They have quite a point, and are not silent when in motion. When standing still, the top half of the toe box is on show. When walking, all the toe box plus about an inch of skin is shown. So when I'm walking, they are easily recognised. In a confined space, people have plenty of time to notice and have a second or third look. I have not fooled myself into thinking they were discreet, nor ignored. Folk weren't standing and staring, but the shoes got noticed by enough people for me to be sure, they weren't that well disguised.

It's mandatory. I'm just waiting for someone a little inquisitive, to work out why there are two sizes of womens shoes in the room.....

I'll have more than one spare pair with me anyway, in case of heavy rain. [Dry will be leather, wet will be PU.] It's the scuffing a heel in a hole/crack/drain I want to completely avoid. That means block heels. While most attendees will be in fairly casual attire, I'd quite like to dress slightly more formally. To me, that means a high stiletto. I keep saying I need to 'learn my lesson', trying to wear a slim heel along pavement, but where else would I wear such a heel and still feel comfortable doing it? Jury is still out.

Now that, my dear boy, is a very good question.

I'm going to be very very very surprised if you weren't noticed at all. I have been out with others in heels, including those who can walk very well in them too, and they've been spotted. Even with myself, I've been told by my escort many have spotted me, though I've not seen them looking first hand. I don't mean everyone will have noticed of course, but you and I know what someone walks like if they are wearing a heel. Girls know what (usually) other girls walk like in a heel, because of how you have to walk, to walk in a heel. I must get spotted by 20 girls/women, to every man who notices, and he will almost certainly notice because he's sitting down. I'm happy if the folk over your way don't notice though. And if their discretion gets you out in heels, then well done them. One of these looks to be screened at a cinema I'm familiar with soon. Don't yet know if it's a film of a performance, or a live screening from a theatre somewhere? I'm tempted to go, and given the high-brow audience, I'm tempted to go in a stiletto heel.

The Sequel date approaches. The weather has skipped Autumnal, and gone straight into Wintery. High winds and driving rain, and little change in sight. So while I was tempted to wear another pair of stiletto courts, I don't want to be arriving at the theatre with shoes full of water..... Looking more and more like a boots gig. Next question then, which ones, and why? It'll doubtless be the highest, thinnest pair I own, provided I can get past the heel-down-pavement-crack concern.

Of around 5 items listed this time around, 3 bits sold, though not the new shoes I have listed previously. But 3 bulky mountain bike related objects are going, provided funds arrive. One of them is a wheel I've kept for around 12 or 13 years just because I liked the look of it. It made £11, which is a bit disappointing. If the buyer doesn't pay, I won't be unhappy. I have no use for the wheel, but it would make an attractive addition to a wall somewhere in the house (in my opinion). I've about 4 bike frames to get rid of too. One a fairly expensive (though I can't remember how expensive) light weight hard-tail frame. Another object so pretty, I've often considered wall mounting it too. While I have in mind to have a shoe-room one day, I doubt I'll get a bike room too. Winter is approaching. Time to get the balance of my 'to sell' shoes and boots out.

I have decided, homes are not usually designed with maintenance in mind. In fact, I would go so far as to say, absolutely no thought goes into designing in routes for repairs or servicing in a home at all. At the end of last week, I had remove a couple of additional pieces of floor board along the pipe run, to begin repairs, as the wood and plasterboard seemed to have dried out. No visible joins to disconnect with a view to making a crossover, but at least I had enough visible pipe to pull it slightly out of the recess for using 'sweated' type pipe joins. Imagine my disappointment then, when I found a third leak! Nothing like the original dam-burster, more of a water drip every 3 - 4 hours, maybe even longer between drips. Once found, Mrs Freddy reveals she's been smelling that water-on-wood smell for a couple of days, and had been so concerned she had checked the temporary repair to ensure it had held good. Now we have the culprit. Which means it would be prudent to replace an even longer section of the hot water pipe. So the 'leaking pipe saga' got some energy thrown at it today, with me taking up more of the laminate flooring in the only room that didn't need immediate work, with the rest of the afternoon spent trying to locate the source of the mysterious cold fill pipe without removing just about every floor board in the same room. For around 4 years I have resisted a yearning to own a bore-scope, not least because of its cost at circa £450. Now they are £550, it looks like my yearn is becoming a desperate need. Drilling a 4mm hole in a floor board, is a lot, lot, lot easier than removing 4 or 5 boards to gain access for a look-see. Today I also removed a 3ft x 6ft 'bodge' panel used by the original builders to hide pipework. In removing it, I had hoped it would reveal the enigmatic cold-fill source. No such luck. So I have to remove even more floor boards tomorrow after all. A hollow countersinking tool that took wood out from around nails, would save me sooooo much time though. Because the house is in renovation mode, I don't have to concern myself with lifting carpet, sourcing a good plumber, nor a good carpenter to make-good the damage a plumber might make. Fortunately for me, I'm becoming a bit of an old-hand at these tasks, and making good is becoming my speciality. (Meaning, not only does the finish look nice, it probably performs better, since I'm able to put the time in a tradesman couldn't. As, every board I put back down goes down with screws, so getting them back up again is much much easier! ) Though taking up floorboards, could never be seen as a pleasant job .....