Empty Suitcases

We only keep what we give away.
When a young mom gave birth to her first son, she received lots of presents from friends who knew she didn’t have anything for a boy.
One gift stood out, though. Rather than buy a gift, this friend, the mother of two older boys, went to her own sentimental box and gift-wrapped a Baby’s First Christmas bib and a beautiful piece of art from her own nursery.
A few months later, at the crack of dawn, the young mother received a phone call. The friend’s house had burned down in the night.
In the days that followed, it became clear that the only mementos her friend would be able to retrieve, like pictures of her children, were going to be the ones she had given away to grandparents and friends, including a bib and a piece of art from her own nursery.
I know this is a true story because my friend gave me the bib and the art when my son was born.
Recently, a lady told me a story about her husband, which illustrates the truth about hilarious giving.
This family makes regular trips to a beloved third world country, but on their first trip, they were overwhelmed by all the physical needs that go unmet daily in that place.
As they were packing to return home that first time, her husband suddenly flipped over his suitcase and dumped all the contents on the bed.
“We are giving this all away,” he announced with excitement.
Knowing how Americans travel, I can easily imagine a suitcase stuffed with blue jeans, t-shirts, button-downs, and several pairs of shoes, all things of extreme value in a country where people often go hungry and barefoot.
Having made many friends in the weeks they were there, they immediately found folks who received the goods joyously.
“Who wants this shirt? Who needs flip flops?”
Imagine the excitement as they tossed each item across a room crowded with folks who had gathered to see them off.
Her husband left with empty suitcases, but I bet his heart was full.
And imagine how he blessed his own wife and kiddoes.
We only keep what we give away.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Red Shoe Philosophy

Valentine’s Day is not really about love at all. It is all about philosophy.

For this reason, I think it is important to note philosophical issues, especially the ones related to Valentine’s Day.

For instance, the Red Shoe Philosophy is one noteworthy theory that seems particularly relevant as Valentine’s Day approaches.

The Red Shoe Philosophy is simple: If you wear red shoes you will have a good day.

This semi-scientifically tested theory seems to hold true regardless of bad hair days, by the way. Or extra weigh gained over the holidays.

There is something so invigorating about a high-healed pair of red pumps.

I especially liked the picture I saw recently of a pair of red tennis shoes under a prom dress.

Or red cowboy boots; yeehaw!

Not only does a gal in red shoes walk with a little extra spring, she puts a smile on the face of anybody who happens to catch a glimpse of her lipstick-colored footwear.

The reason I think the Red Shoe Philosophy is relevant for Valentine’s Day is because a lot of single gals detest this holiday.

There’s something so disappointing for single gals about the heartbreaking combination of a holiday that emphasizes chocolate and having no one to give you any.

Having the right philosophy is self-empowering.

The great news is, you get to choose your own podiatral adornments. And shoes don’t add calories to your diet.

Like a gal in a zippy red sports car, you can leave all those single guys idling in the wake of your glimmering, flashes of self-confidence.

Or for the guy who is the lucky lover of a gal who buys into the whole Red Shoe Philosophy, here’s another philosophical pearl that is sure to come in handy when you rush out at the last minute in a Valentine’s Day buying panic.

Gals love shoes. Especially red ones. Hint, hint.

So, for the guy desperately trying to please his sweetheart, some pertinent philosophical perspectives seem especially relevant this time of year.

Just buy jewelry.

Or check in her closet for her shoe size.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Golf: It's All About the Shoes

“It’s all about the shoes,” declared a friend when I asked about her love of golf.
Really? I thought it was all about the cart.
I shared this info with a guy and he responded, “Really? But golf shoes are so ugly!”
Well, you would think so, but there’s no explaining fashion, especially when it comes to shoes.
For example, who would ever have thought that Sketchers would catch on? Sketchers, in case you don’t check the sale ads in your local paper, are a tennis shoe popular with fashionista-types that would be perfectly at home in a bowling alley.
I actually have a pair of Coach tennis shoes that are similar to bowling shoes. I wear them all the time, not that I myself would ever pay for anything Coach brand.
They were a gift from my husband who had the impartial and knowledgeable help of our daughter while shopping.
The shoes are gold and that explains everything.
You see, I have noted over the years that grandmothers always have gold shoes. And usually a gold pocketbook to match. A pocketbook is what we used to call purses back in the day before they became hand bags. My grandmother would not have carried anything but a pocketbook.
I don’t have grandchildren yet; a circumstance that I take every opportunity to mention in front of my married daughter.
However, my philosophy is that it is never too early to go ahead and get gold shoes just in case you get surprised with grandchildren. It could happen.
Personally, I think any writer that can work golf, shoes, and grandparenting into the same column deserves a Pulitzer. Not that I’m hinting or anything.
Golf is on my mind because a very kind lady blessed me by taking me for a ride in her golf cart today.
She doesn’t actually play golf, she just owns the cart. Very sensible of her, if you ask me.
I had no desire to drive, I just went along for the ride. I find it so much more relaxing to let someone else take the responsibility of not crashing.
She and her mother, that would be the grandmother of her children (notice how I worked that grandmother thing in again), had recently painted her cart in green and tan camo. Really. It was very cool; in a golf cart fashion kind of way.
Okay, I think a camo golf cart is the height of snazzy golfing equipment.
Unless, of course, they make golf shoes in gold.
Now is your chance, golfers, let me know what you like about golf, golf shoes, or golf equipment and I’ll fashion your ideas into a column.
Better yet, invite me to ride around in a golf cart and I’ll show up at your next fundraiser. It will make a great excuse to buy a new pair of shoes!
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in beautiful East Texas, golf paradise. Comments are welcome at CaeKrafve2@aol.com.