I’m a barefoot girl.

And I wonder if it is genetic. I have a picture my Mama took of my daddy holding me while he is standing barefooted outside. Oh and I was born in December and I look to be about a month or two old.

My cousin Annette used to be the same way. We never ever wore shoes in the summer….gravel roads, stickers in the yard…..all be damned.

And I can remember squeezing my feet into shoes when school started. My Mama would say that my feet had stretched and I believed her. Now I realize how silly that was. Your feet don’t stretch or get wider just because you go barefooted….do they?

I can remember when I first moved to “town” in the summer of 1975 to work at the hospital, not wearing shoes to the grocery store, or to the local Fred's store.

Also in the winter I don’t think twice about running outside to the mailbox or garbage can barefooted.

The first thing that I do when I get home is pull off my shoes, no matter what the temperature is.

I drive with my shoes off.

Sometimes in long boring meetings, I slip my shoes off.

I love the feeling of going barefooted on the beach……digging my toes in the sand.

When I was a kid, I loved the feeling of walking barefooted in the newly plowed ground of the garden.

But on the other hand, David’s feet never ever touch anything but shoes. When he gets up in the morning his feet go straight into his house shoes. When he gets out of the tub, his feet go straight into his house shoes. His feet are as tender as a new born baby’s. My feet on the other hand (no pun intended) are……well tough, but hey that’s just the way it is when you are a barefoot girl.