Muddy Times

This is a trivial post, in spite of its title I am not blogging about the controversies of Western democracies. Something one must remember about England: it rains a lot and its relatively mild weather means it rains even more when it should be snowing. Which means that this island seems sometimes to be made of mud. We walked into town with a cousin of my wife and her two children today. When we were back, our shoes and boots were all muddy. Including my beautiful Pajar boots. Yesterday, during our walk in the park with the kids of our friends, the children were literally covered in mud, from feet to the forehead. I know my Pajars can take that kind of weather, all the same, I will clean them thoroughly as soon as I find time. Moral of the story: for the Norse Hell was made of ice, for the Hebrew it was made of fire, but people living here must know that Hell must be wet and muddy.

New boots

One of the necessary and yet pleasant things I do when I get home is renew my clothing, usually my winter clothing, as there is often one essential piece of my seasonal attire that is runned down to no use by the time I travel home. Last September it was my summer coat, but this winter it was my boots, that were full of holes and borderline unusable. They were not keeping me warm, they were taking water, pebbles, what have you. So I bought new boots yesterday, the ones you see on the right hand-side picture. They are Pajar boots, model Miracle (nice promising name), high quality stuff, guaranteed to last ten years. I am glad: I need good boots that ladt that long. And since Pajar is a Québec based company, I thought about plugging it here.