These Boots Were Made for Caulking Creaky Knees

One of my many self-indulgent pursuits during my recent trip back home was the purchase of these supple leather, zip-up-the-back, kitten-heeled boots. Initially, I defended the purchase by declaring them an early 50th birthday present, a visual reminder that turning a half century old doesn't mean you start looking for orthotic inserts in your sensible shoes.

But okay, some of you may be thinking "WTF???? She lives in AFRICA, for Chrissakes...who needs leather boots over there, except maybe for stomping around in muddy forests??"

Well, in my ongoing attempts at promoting Afro-American cross-cultural understanding, please be advised that it is now Winter in Kenya, and of the four such seasons I have experienced so far, it is by far the coldest. OBVIOUSLY, it never gets as cold as, say, the Northeast in the US, or Michigan's Upper Peninsula. To my knowledge, there's never been any snow here. And I don't ever foresee myself investing in a down jacket while I'm on the continent.

But once you've lived in a different climate for a few years, your body recalibrates. Let's forget about my "Change of Life" issues for a minute; I truly believe my blood has thinned. I have been wearing socks to bed just about every night since I returned from the States. Most mornings are chilly and gray, and it's been a real struggle to get out of bed--just like the months of January through April back in DC.

Folks, SAD ain't just an acronym; Seasonal Affective Disorder is real, whether you're in Nyack or Nairobi. I've been plowing through somehow, and the other day I pulled on these puppies with some sexy patterned tights to help jump start the old positive endorphins.

Turns out these boots were a great investment, but sadly, not for the reason you might think. Oh yeah, I was smokin' hot in 'em, but by the end of a cold winter day here, I was forced to acknowledge the REAL reason I'm glad I own them. They covered my achy knees, and kept 'em toasty and snug. Helped cut my dose of Naproxen that day in half.

I swear to the Sweet Thorny-Haired Baby JAY-ZUS, you gotta laugh at this "Getting Older" crap or you woud cut your own throat 5 times every day.