I can’t help it – I’m a fool for the Sunday funnies. You know – the comics. You don’t know, do you. Sigh. Colorful cartoons drawn by actual cartoonists and printed in the Sunday edition of the newspaper in order to give you something to chuckle about. No. They do not move. There is no sound track.
They were a feature of my childhood, remained a feature of my youthful motherhood when Rob the Firefighter was young enough to allow me to put him on my lap and read to him, and are to this day a feature of my Sunday mornings. I must say that it was more fun to share the funnies with Rob than it is to share them with Miss Sadie and the Cowboy, but I’m still having fun.
Earlier this week – how did it get to be Wednesday for crying out loud? – I saw one I particularly enjoyed. It struck me as not simply gently humorous, but as a message not unlike the messages on the Eastport Baptist Church sign. I take my philosophy where I find it.
The tiny image is by way of illustration only, as I am a firm believer in copyrights as well as lots of other rights that belong to the likes of us, and the comic’s copyright is owned by Bil and Jeff Keane. However, I will tell you the punchline. Billy is telling Jeffy “Grandma says if you want to leave footprints in the sands of time you should wear work boots.” I like it. It got me thinking about my own work boots.
We have, in order, from the top down: my Beloved Bogs (excellent winter dog-walking, swamp wading, beach clambering, field exploring work boots), my beloved wool slippers (shapeless but sturdy, toasty warm, utterly disreputable writing work boots), and a fine pair of lug-soled hiking boots Maryanne Jorgensen gave me because they didn’t fit her and they do fit me AND my old hiking boots had a hole in the liner the size of a quarter and gave me blisters. I’m thinking that with all these choices in hand I ought to bestir myself to make some footprints before the sands of time run right out on me. Of course first I have to do some dog-walking. I tried to get a nice portrait of the Duo for you, but Miss Sadie and the Cowboy were at odds, or maybe just messing with me, I never know.