It's a good day

We had about four days of mud, so Gabe and I didn't go for a pasture-walk; His only outings were taken at the end of a leash, and he was only out long enough to do his business.  It's just too much trouble to have to give him a bath after every walk.  I don't mind combing stickers out of his beard, but I I don't think it's good to give a dog too many baths.  He already has dry, itchy skin from laying on the heat register every time the furnace kicks on.  Anyhow, as much as I enjoyed the unseasonable temperatures over the weekend, I'm glad to see the ground frozen again.  Gabe and I were able to go for our walk and still keep our feet clean, and we both loved it.  

I need some good, comfortable leather walking shoes.  For years I only bought Nike brand walking sneakers:  I walked three miles or so every day for exercise, and they were comfortable.  Back then I walked along the road and in a little local park for exercise.  Some years ago I decided to walk in our pasture.  I'm a morning walker, so when dew was on the grass, I got wet shoes and socks.  So I simply started walking barefoot when weather permitted.  When it was muddy or too cold, I'd wear my Muck boots, and mostly just used my sneakers for going to town.  I need to buy some shoes now, but I see no reason to buy sneakers.  The least amount of dew on the grass gets them wet, so I want some good, comfortable leather walking shoes for going places.  They'd clean up better and keep my feet dryer at those big tractor shows we attend.  Back before I was married when I was working in a factory and on my feet all day, I wore deerskin leather walking shoes that were perfect.  I guess they don't make those any more.  I'm not looking for something terribly cheap.  I want comfort and durability.  Wish me luck.  I have big feet, so it's sometimes hard to find the shoe I want for my size 11's.

A while back I was trying to explain to my sister, her son, and his wife how much I love going barefoot.  The best feeling in the world to me is walking through the cool, green grass on the first spring day, I told them.  The second-best feeling is walking on plowed-up garden dirt.  When I was telling this to them, they looked perplexed.  So, hoping to enlighten them, I said, "It's sort of like the feeling of coming home after a days work and taking off my bra!  It's freedom!".  Which I think only confused them more.  

You just don't know how happy I am on that first day of sixty-degree temperatures after a long winter, when I can go outside without shoes.  I feel like I'm a part of the earth, like I've been set free.  I feel sorry for people who don't "get" this sensation.  Cliff, for example, is a tenderfoot who won't even go barefoot in the house, and yells like he's dying if he steps on a grain of rice,... probably even a cooked grain of rice.  Not that there's rice laying all over my floors, but there's always something that he'd consider to be crippling when stepped on.   When I talk about the wonders of going barefoot in the grass, he just shudders, checks out, and thinks about other things, as though his feet hurt just thinking about it.  

I've shared the following poem before, but it seems appropriate to make it part of this entry; I jumped down off some hay one time and landed on a metal door-stop that did considerable damage and took awhile to heal; that's when I realized how much I owe to these feet of mine:

 I’ve taken walks for many years. I seldom miss a day;

It’s then I seem to hear from God, and find the time to pray.
I took for granted two good feet that carried me along,
And seldom thanked the Lord for them… till everything went wrong!
In fact, I griped about my feet, so hideous to me,
And several sizes larger than a lady’s feet should be.
Shoes were so confining that I didn’t wear them much,
Except when going shopping, or to Sunday school and such.

Now, when a person won’t wear shoes, her feet get stained from grass
And spread out even larger, and look unrefined and crass.
The calluses grow thicker, and unsightly scars appear
From all of the abuses heaped upon them, year to year.
One day my foot was injured as I went about the farm
(Keep tempting fate for long enough, and you will come to harm).
The doctor took some stitches, and it put me in such pain
That I could see there’d be no walks. That fact was very plain!

Well, now I can appreciate the things my feet can do…
So many years I’ve used them, and they always got me through.
Who cares if they’re not sexy feet, or delicate or small?
I’ve learned to thank my Maker that I have these feet at all.
Two weeks I couldn’t take my walks; my foot was slow to heal,
But I can count my blessings with a gratitude that’s real.
This whole experience is one I hope I don’t repeat,
But one thing I have gained from this: I’ve learned to love my feet! 

In closing, let me share a comment someone made on my "open gates" entry:    I enjoy your blog and have been reading it for years I starting reading it because of the cows,  when I was young we milked cows and sold the cream on Saturday my dad and I would go to  town in a horse drawn wagon {1952} I know the feeling of giving up things like a big garden  and chickens. My dad was cotton farmer 80 acre farm. Thanks. donjacks Muskogee oklahoma I truly do blog mainly for myself, not for an audience.  Most of my family doesn't even read it...  they know enough about my life that reading about it bores them.  And yet, hearing from  someone who has never left a comment even though he's been reading for years makes me  happy.  So yes, I do appreciate my readers.  Thank you for commenting, Don.   Try to get outside and look at the trees and the sky, won't you?  Bundle up first, though. Peace. (Don't ask why this entry is multi-colored with several fonts used.  It's a long, boring story about  a woman whose techskills are limited.)