barefoot contessa

OK. Before I begin, I want to unnecessarily declare that I one of those toe-to-ankle things.

_

I have really ugly feet. Realistically I should be like Tina Fey/Liz Lemon and refuse to wear open-toe shoes. My feet are unusually wide and flat. I would definitely never be married in 17th century China. But let it be known: I love being barefoot. Up until this year I was barefoot whenever I could. Even in my freezing ass house in the winter. Even while sprinting down the asphalt street in the summer. I'm getting chills just thinking about walking barefoot on my cabin's gravel/dead grass driveway. Shit! It hurts! And then walking on to the concrete-cracked slab near the garage. And then accidently stepping into an ant hill on the sidewalk leading down to the lake. And then Fuck! stubbing my toe on the stone walkway to the house's basement walk-in. Then feeling the coldness of the concrete beneath the screened-in porch. Refreshing as fuck. Then running down the concrete walkway to the dock. My feet have become numb to their rough ridges . Then finally the warm sand and then FINALLY the wet sand and rocks beneath the gross, green water.

Hot-damn.