Thursday, April 27, 2006

Summertime's a comin'

Whew--not a moment too soon has the weather started its shift from the soul-sucking grayness of spring to the bright, warmness of summer. In fact, on Tuesday, Margaret and I went on a walk and I made the mistake of wearing flip-flops. If I had known we would be walking several miles, I would have worn regular shoes, and by the middle of the walk (of course when we were FURTHEST from the house) one of the straps started chaffing me so bad that it became unbearable--now I know how those poor Chinese women with bound feet must feel like! In an act of desparation, I took off my shoes and walked home--on roads, sidewalks, and--most appreciatively GRASS--barefoot. It went ok--other than dodging the occasional broken glass and dog poop, but I wasn't so careful running across a busy street and planting my tender foot on a round rock. You might think a sharp rock would be bad, but a foot that hasn't seen anything but the sole of a shoe for years doesn't take kindly to even a round rock and I think I bruised the bottom of my foot. It still hurts when I walk even with shoes on! What would my Indian ancestors think of me? (Actually, I'd probably be long dead if I had to live in the past--my eyesight is so bad that the only thing I'd have been good for would be modeling for totem poles or being bait to catch bears or mountain lions.)

Speaking of good weather, finally getting to wear shorts again reminded me of one time when I was eight or nine, my brother and I decided to make some cut-offs. Since our mom wouldn't have approved of us cutting up our school jeans, we had to take matters into our own hands. Of course we had no idea how to make cut-offs, and every time we'd try, the legs wouldn't be even or they would go up in the back or some other problem. So we kept trying, eventually getting the shorts a little too short. Then it became a game of how short we could cut them off. It got to the point that we'd only left the seam down the middle--I know... we'd inadvertantly made THONG cut-offs. Of course we didn't realize the ramifications of such short shorts until we tried them on... and then proceeded to bury them in the trash in the hopes that mom didn't find the destroyed clothing. My brother is still adventurous--he cuts the sleeves off t-shirts--but I've completely given up altering my own clothing. Something about tighty-whiteys hanging out of jean shorts so short Daisy Duke wouldn't wear them was enough to scar me for life!

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