Red Shoes.
Belden Batiste, a/k/a Noonie Man, is a perennially unsuccessful mayoral candidate. I voted for him. He lives around the corner from where Mrs. King and I live. Noonie Man likes to wear red shoes.
Your humble narrator likewise likes to wear red shoes. So does the Pope, traditionally.
We walk through the blood of martyrs.
Being out of style never goes out of style.
People are breaking bread during brunch this sunny Sunday. With Carnival over and Lent underway, life is settling back to normal with more repentance and less exuberance. Unless you live in New Orleans you will never notice the difference. In New Orleans, we celebrate the Sabbath the way Bostonians celebrate the 4th of July.
I wonder how much longer the Carnival socks are going to be in the window of Beauty & Beyond on North Broad Street. I think they are past their expiration date, much like the foodstuffs in a dollar store.
If you need some Mardi Gras flowers, I know where to send you. Dat Fleur Girl also lives around the corner from Mrs. King and I.
Now, I want to tell you why I am thinking about red shoes. Welcome to my world.