I visited my parents last Sunday for Mother's Day, and somehow the topic of shoes came up--oh, I know. My niece--who graduated from high school this month--is rivaling Imelda Marcos in shoe purchasing, having what I understand is something like twenty pairs of athletic shoes.

I mentioned that I had been to WalMart the previous week and saw some cute plaid sneakers, but that I hate to buy shoes, and that I always think long and hard before I spend money on them, and my sister said, "Even WalMart shoes?" and that made me think about my priorities.

There are certain things that I will spend money on, and certain things that I won't. These things change from time to time, of course, depending on my financial situation and my current obsession. Right now I'm putting together a collection of wooden knitting needles because, having never used them before, I've discovered that they make knitting a sensual pleasure and much more enjoyable than knitting on aluminum needles. So when I find a pair of needles in a size that I need--they're difficult to find here--I buy them.

I'm buying knitting magazines, although, like computer books, knitting pattern books are expensive and I haven't bought any of those yet, although for the most part, I don't worry about spending money on books. I've been going to the library more lately, though, and haven't spent money on hardback fiction--I just put my name on the reserve list and wait. Good for working on patience.

So anyway, back to the shoes.

Bob and I went out to WalMart the other night so he could buy a battery charger for his trolling motor battery, and while he was considering the various options in the sporting goods department, I wandered over to the shoe department. They still had the plaid sneakers; I tried them on. They were about $9.00, and they were cute, and although that little voice in my head said, "How many times are you going to wear plaid shoes?" I decided to buy them.

When we got to the checkout counter, Bob paid for them. I got my new shoes and didn't even have to pay for them!

In addition to my weirdnesses about what I'll spend money on, I am, of course, weird about food. I don't begrudge spending money on good food, but I do begrudge the time spent preparing it and cleaning up after it. I would much rather heat up a can of soup than actually prepare a meal, but Bob is just the opposite.

The same night we went to WalMart, we went across the street to Target for something, and while we were walking through the grocery store part, I saw a freezer case full of half salmon filets. I thought they were funny, and picked one up and showed it to Bob; he thought I was suggesting that we buy one, and once he mentioned it, it seemed like a good idea. I knew he would cook it.

The next night he cooked. Salmon baked with dill and butter, boiled new potatoes, stir-fried asparagus and hollandaise sauce. It was wonderful, of course, but I would never cook something like that for myself. The day before he had made steak au poivre for himself for lunch. He amazes me.

When he goes on a fishing trip, where most men would have bologna sandwiches, potato chips and beer, he fixes prime rib, eggs Benedict, the afore-mentioned steak au poivre, sausage appetizers in wonton wrappers. Well, and beer, too, of course.