Only in Israel...

So my tall brown boots, a Poconos black Friday purchase, have sprung a leak. By the end of boots season last year, I saw a small tear in the sole, probably from how hard I am on shoes with my 1.7 mile walks to work every morning. They are also old, a relic from my first Rozmaryn Thanksgiving in 2004. Since we've gotten here and I've been wearing them, the little hole has grown, and is now a full on tear. Like, if I didn't have an extra gel insole on the bottom my foot would be on the sidewalk. Classy, right?

Emek Refaim's Shoemaker

So we happen to have a shoe repair shop on our block, and by shop, I mean a kiosk in the middle of the street where a man sits and repairs shoes. It's kind of the oddest thing ever, but also awesome. Friday, I took my boots over to this fella to get them resoled. The kind man, upon glancing at my poor boot looked at me and said (in hebrew, and yes I understood!) "throw out these shoes they're not worth fixing. Chanuka is coming, go out and buy yourself some new ones".

That's the most adorable thing you've ever heard right? Only in Israel...