The First Boot Post

Welcome!

This blog, as I think most out there are, will simply serve as an outlet.  Be it creative, curious, venting, or boring, it's an outlet.  More for the blogger than reader.  


"Blog" in this case will stand for boots log. (Get it, because blog and boots log are practically the same word.)  And yes, I know that the title of the blog is "Bacon's Boot Blog" and with the above logic the title is redundant.  But it's like FedEx Express.  Sometimes you have to say it twice.


I expect themes noted in the description will soon disappear once I've exhausted all my left-handed material.  Or when I stop taking my boots places.  Or when I decide to be like my dad and take many many digressions and still return to make my point.  Or I get distracted.  Most likely the last one.

These are my boots.  

This picture was taken on an adventure to the Arboretum in Seattle.  Beth and I had a list of what we wanted to do with our time off.  Getting lost in the trees and trails of this gigantic park was on the list.  

It was a beautiful day, cold and muddy, just how I like it.  The boots trekked (quickly, as I fall when I walk slow) up a hill of mud to the gazebo on the top of a hill.  The view was less than impressive so I took a picture of the boots instead. 

The cherry trees had just hit their stride of amazing blooming.  I've always wondered if cherry blossoms smell.  So down the hill we ran to find out.  They don't smell so much.  A little like cherries, but that is more my brain saying they should smell like cherries.  Pictures like this make me want to be on the east coast for the Cherry Blossom Festival. 

I did try to make it snow cherry blossoms by shaking the tree, but alas, they were new flowers and clung to their sticks.  You can be sure as the season goes on that any tree I pass with fluttering petals is getting all shook up.

Near the end of the day it became more difficult to keep what I call "the destructive child inside me" in check...

Thankfully for my finger (and the plant I would have stomped had it hurt me), Beth was there to suggest that maybe poking the pointy plant wasn't, you know, the best idea I'd had all day.  (I did still touch it, just not hard.)

My boots have been many places in the past and will continue to visit many in the future.  I trust the blog will serve as a, well, (b)log of their travels and myself in them.  I understand if no one can hear me and my stories, the boots are just screaming as loud as they can.