Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Spit and Polish

Waiting for me this a.m., newly shined.

Many years ago when we first started traveling in Europe, there was a quaint custom in even the smallest hotels. If you left your shoes outside the door, they would be polished for you in the morning.

It seems I have a shoe-shine boy in residence, too. Every once in a while I wake up to find my regular old shoes buffed, burnished and dazzling.

This is a photo of Dee I took 38 years ago. The second Saturday after I met him, he offered to polish my shoes! (I took a shine to him right away.)

I lived in this room in the Steinlechner Hotel
when I met Dee in Salzburg, Austria
in 1969.

9 comments:

Christie said...

Dee is the best! He is such a thoughtful husband.

SaraLynn said...

How sweet!

Nimmy said...

I love this about dad.

Joy Des Jardins said...

What a guy! I can only imagine that it was one of many ways to win your heart Marty. How sweet.

gramakas said...

Ahhhh, Steinlechner Hotel! Good memories! But I don't think I ever got my shoes polished!

cjs said...

I just saw Shellseekers on your book list...I love Rosemund Pilcher!

gab said...

Whenever I smell shoepolish I think of Dad.

Sandra Ferguson said...

Little wonder you married this man. Any fellow who knows how to court a woman's feet, is a fellow worth hanging onto!

Jenibelle said...

Pun intended?