Free at Last!

My husband (lovingly referred to as "Mr. Cooked") is the proud owner of a souped-up Mini Cooper S in British racing green, with white trim and clay red interior.  It's got fancy rims, is overloaded with chrome and has more stripes then a brigadier general.

When he's not driving her, she lives in a "Mini Coop" (like a chicken coop only without the chickens).

Mini's coop is spotless and well organized.  A mat rests outside the drivers side door so Mr. Cooked can wipe his feet before entering.  He wipes Mini down after ever drive and buffs her a bit more before taking her out.  

A Mini baseball cap is on display in the center of the back seat.  On the front passenger side floor are a pair of grasshopper green Piloti driving shoes that have never touched the ground.

Mr. Cooked wears them only when he's driving her.  

I didn't even know driving shoes existed before I met Mini.  

(Is it just me or does it look like she's sticking her tongue out?)

Last month, Mr. Cooked attended a Formula One race in Canada.  It was a boys ONLY week - Mini and I were not invited.  He needed a bigger ride so he took my SUV and left me home alone with Mini.

I'd never driven her before and wasn't sure if she was deserving of all the attention she gets. She's cute - I'll give her that.   And tiny - cute and tiny.   And thanks to all that buffing, she's shiny.  

Instead of whipping out the driveway the minute he left, I settled in with endless episodes of Sex and the City, oreo's and high end chardonnay.


(for those of you who read me regularly, you'll notice this is a reoccurring theme)

The following day I took her on a test drive.  I put both dogs in the front and tossed the driving shoes in the backseat along with the baseball cap.  She handled the twists and turns of back-country roads well but she was stiff on the bumps  and the dogs didn't like being so low to the ground.

Later in the day, I dropped the dogs at the office and picked up my co-worker in crime, Miss Pegged.

Before buckling up, she popped on the cap and shoes.   It felt wrong.  The cap was sized perfectly for Mr. Cooked's head and the shoes.... well, she wasn't driving.

Not only did it feel wrong, it felt bad.  And a big part of me liked that.

As copilot, I put her in charge of the music and the sunroof.

The next thing I knew, the shoes were free.  

Doesn't it seem wrong for shoes NOT to touch the ground?

Shouldn't shoes be going places?

Until Miss Pegged's dastardly deed, these shoes didn't see the light of day!

We spent the week showing them around town.  It was our twisted version of Flat Stanley.

I have a friend who recently documented his time with Flat Stanley after my sister's son sent him one.

Steve's adventures with Flat Ryan in Hawaii  are exhilarating and highly entertaining!

Steve spent so much time and effort on this school project that I felt inspired to do something creative with the shoes.

We considered visiting Steve in Hawaii but neither of us could get the time off work.

We decided there was plenty to see and do in our own back yard.

We started out slowly....

by resting them ON the car.  

And then we took them down to the pier to gaze at calm, blue water ...

Not quite Hawaii, but even so, it was a very enjoyable afternoon.

Miss Pegged pushed the limit when she dangled them off the stone wall.

To relax, we took them to the liquor store to hang in the wine bins ...

but they became enamored by a bottle of Crystal Head Vodka.

So much so that they tried to escape.

After a brief bathroom break...

we continued on our merry way.  

To sooth the lonely sorrow of Mr. Cooked being away, we decided a bit of pampering was in order...

(carpeted entry - STILL not touching the ground)

Ahhh... a fresh manicure! 

And pedicure...

 

For some reason, Pilot(i) and Co-pilot insisted on a hot dogs from the truck outside the park. 

 It was only a matter of time before we went shopping.

(right heel touching sidewalk - its just a matter of semantics now)

One shop had a cute little army truck in the display.

Not sure if it was the size, or the shade of green...

but Piloti jumped right in!

(dangling from the wall are ultra cool belts - CoPilot and I had to get one - mine is green)

The following day, Piloti took time out to hang with my Dad.

Later that night, we met "My friend Flicka" for drinks and dinner.
(notice how Flicka's eyes and blouse match)

Piloti enjoyed his time in the spotlight...

It's clear someone got a bit carried away here...

And on our final day of play...

we went to church and asked for forgiveness.

The week FLEW by, before I knew it Mr. Cooked was back home.  

Our mouths laced shut, we kept the tales of Piloti to ourselves.  Oh if those soles could talk!

I am, if nothing else, easily entertained.  Especially when encouraged and inspired by my creative friends.  

photo's of Piloti shot on a Droid Incredible.  

Incredibly complicated phone but a great little camera.  

My Turn to Drive

Miss Lucy, Mylo and I take Mini for a spin.