<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Boots on Walking in Sober Boots</title><link>https://soberboots.org/tags/boots/</link><description>Recent content in Boots on Walking in Sober Boots</description><image><title>Walking in Sober Boots</title><url>https://soberboots.org/soberboots/assets/uploads/2023/07/img_1290.jpg</url><link>https://soberboots.org/soberboots/assets/uploads/2023/07/img_1290.jpg</link></image><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 04 Dec 2020 20:02:33 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://soberboots.org/tags/boots/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Confessions of a Man Addicted to Boots</title><link>https://soberboots.org/2020/12/04/confessions-of-a-man-addicted-to-boots/</link><pubDate>Fri, 04 Dec 2020 20:02:33 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://soberboots.org/2020/12/04/confessions-of-a-man-addicted-to-boots/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I have loved boots as long as I can remember. I remember having rubber boots that buttoned around the front when I was very small, wearing sandwich bags over my feet to go out in the snow. When I was in second grade, after we moved to the sticks, I started asking for a pair of cowboy boots, and a insulated vest, because that’s what the kids who’s parents had farms wore to school.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>