once upon a time, fuzzy socks were a luxury i did not think i cared about. raised in an uber-frugal home, there were far more important things on which to spend my parents' money, and later on, my own. well, last year i received a pair of fuzzy slipper socks for Christmas. i fell in love. nothing quite compares to the feeling of soft chenille on your winter-parched feet. this Christmas, i found some on sale. i purchased 2 pair for gifts, and one for myself, in nice, simple black. so inconspicuos that casual observers will not notice that such luxury is included in my casual outfit. (unless they have a foot fetish, God help them.) the last time i went to the gym, i stopped by fashion bug and found the pair pictured above... on sale, of course. there were some bright, sanguine socks in the clearance basket, and then this pair: understatedly funky.... casually cozy.... yeah, something along those lines. worth the money...

this picture shows my feet doing what i've felt like doing all week. and except for a few loads of laundry and meals, this is pretty much all they have done. perhaps i'll make it back to the gym tomorrow.... and while i'm at it, maybe i'll go next door to see if there are any other fuzzy socks on clearance. i may even cut hubby's hair this weekend, as he is about to die from his shag, so he thinks. (me thinks thou art a wee bit melodramatic when it comest to thy shaven locks, my beloved. thy shag is yet shorter than the fuzz on these socks.)