Boots

My sister Diane tries on one of two pairs of Sorel boots I needed to clear out of the house. Now that she's moved to the Kootenays, she'll find them useful.

John took this photo of me in the boots in January of 2009. We haven't had snow like this for years.

Sorel boots have thick felt linings and roomy toes. Put your feet in, and it's like plunging into warm carpeting from knee to toe. Once I walked home from work in a blizzard in my Sorel boots -- a three-hour journey in the dark on slippery, slushy streets, with wet snow still falling. By the end, the only part of me still dry was where the boots began.

I loved those boots, but things have changed since I took that walk in the snow. Winters are milder -- we're lucky to get rain these years, let alone snow. I'm retired, so I don't have to walk in miserable weather. And the boots -- I actually ended up with two pairs -- took up a lot of space.

Ever since a house-cleaning more than a year ago, they've loomed outside my basement office. How to get rid of them? There's not much call in climate-warming Vancouver for two nearly-new pairs of gigantic boots guaranteed to keep your feet toasty when it's down to minus 40.

My sister Diane has just moved to the Kootenays, which actually has a winter. When she was in town this week, she too fell for the cozy felt linings. She took the whole boot pile; whatever she doesn't use, guests might.

I like to think my boots will keep someone else's feet warm on cold winter nights. And the clear space outside my office door is wonderful.

Boots this big take up lots of space. Along with the Sorels are a pair of hiking boots I wanted to get rid of too. 

A well-booted sister.