Not long after we moved into our house, one of the dogs appeared from under the boards with this in its mouth.
It is said that once upon a time house builders would put a child's shoe somewhere in the foundations or structure, often near the front door, for luck. This shoe is well old. It has been resoled a few times and I reckon it dates from not long after the house was built in the twenties. Amazing that it has lasted all these years of the elements and curious creatures.
I took the shoe into the local community history centre at the library. They loved it and took pictures, along with other ephemera that keeps surfacing, such as great vintage cardboard packaging. I can't wait until the extension starts next year and the whole back of the house gets removed. We will all be under the builder's feet with our picks and trowels.
I'm flat out getting to leave for our trip back to the UK over the Christmas holidays to spend with our other family. Will the bottom of the washing basket ever appear? Exciting as it is to be going away (when you live in one of the world's most isolated cities, trust me, it's exciting), there's part of me that would frankly rather just stay home. Life is such a fragile treasure, and taking our family out into the wide world of multiple airports, European winter weather, congested roads and unknown places and plans feels like such a risk to our secure little world and routine. Jeez I must be getting old.
So I'm thinking about the lucky shoe, and saying a little prayer for a safe and wonderful holiday, and for everyone else out there also preparing for a well earned break too.