We went to a Winter solstice party last night and were met at the door with the request to please remove our shoes. Understand that this was in the Santa Cruz mountains, and it was raining. So, not a very unusual or excessive request.
Also understand that my dear husband rarely will remove his shoes in public (interpretation: he would wear shoes to bed if I did not draw the line!).
Here's proof that he does follow the tenet, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
First, from the waist up, gryphonaire and Panache:
Here's the shocker:
But I still love him, despite this raccoon that has come between us:
Be well,
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