Ah, bare feet

Finally, my shoes are off and so are my socks and my feet are resting next to each other on a soft, fluffy comforter. I couldn’t do it earlier because I had to water the tomatoes plants on the moundlet, and to do that, I have to move the hose three times. It is done now and I am about done in, soon to be tucked in.

I made myself wait to remove shoes and socks because I knew, just knew, that once they were off I would manage to just forget to go out and shut off the water. Such a little thing and such a big relief. Not that my shoes were uncomfortable; they were just there – and I wanted my feet to feel the cool softness of the evening.

Oh, by the way, I took a picture of the top of my head to assess the greyness factor. It seemed so logical, but when I mentioned it, people seemed surprised. Imagine that. I guess my peg is a rather unusual shape, which is why I carry my hole with me. (I don’t understand what I mean by that too well, either – so don’t feel bad.)