You can call me Shoe . . .

I collect shoes. Tiny little shoes of the knickknack variety. My fondness for shoes dates back to childhood when my mom and three brothers nicknamed me Shoe because of a silly pair of fuzzy slippers I wore everywhere. I don't recall that my dad ever called me Shoe. But my husband still does, and my niece and nephews call me Aunt Shoe. And since I'm rather partial to my nickname, it became the title of my blog.

I have just a few special shoes in my collection. I've never cared for large collections. You know the ones I mean; you pick up one or two cute little cow figurines and suddenly herds of cows start moo-ving onto shelves in your basement and garage. Before you know it, bovine fever has taken over every spare inch of space in your world. So I only have a few shoes in my collection. But the ones I have are choice and I like each of them quite a bit.

My shoes are displayed on a vintage mirrored dressing tray. The newest addition is a gift from my friend Cathy. It's a rather fancy sling-back with a gold heel and rhinestones covering the toe. I've also found a few sweet styles at estate sales over the years. And I have a wonderful pink depression glass shoe that belonged to my mother-in-law. So there you have it, the origin of my nickname and my shoe collection.