Tag Archives: feet

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soft foot and arms too

Tenderfoot reminds me of my sister and our family’s summer visits to Lake Matinenda. We lived in tents. My grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins were all in cabins.

We were always the last to head home. We usually mislaid our flipflops, towels, t-shirts and flashlights, so we head down the path in the dark. When I was little I have cuts every summer in the arch of my foot. I learn to walk in the dark on the path with the foot curled and lightly, so that if there is something sharp I can change weight to the other foot. If there are two sharps in a row, usually rocks, I get cut anyhow, but less often. I still love to take my shoes off on the paths there.

I would go this summer except for the oxygen. We did not bring in electricity. I do not quite feel up to acquiring a solar panel/battery combination that is adequate this year. It’s also the heavy lifting. We drink the lake water and bring it up in buckets. We do filter it, but carrying the buckets. It just does not seem like a brilliant idea alone with my lungs still challenged.

Anyhow, here is another soft footed and soft armed creature. This is taken at the Baltimore Aquarium a few years ago.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: tenderfoot.

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And she’s walking as if her feet hurt

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: crepitus.

I wrote this poem thinking about my sister in 2009. I was writing on everything2.com and they had a “masked poetry ball”. We put up a second identity and part of the contest was guessing who was who. My brother in law and my sister had been on the site for far longer than me. While I was masked, my brother in law sent me a message that the poem reminded him of his wife. Yes, I thought, that poem worked, because I wrote it about her.

And she’s walking as if her feet hurt

And she’s walking as if her feet hurt
Each first metatarsal hits the dirt
Each joint feels like it’s full of grit
Bone on bone and all that shit

And she’s walking as if her feet hurt
Each first metatarsal hits the dirt
It’s no surprise, in fact it grates
To know she carries all those weights

Please rest your feet sometimes my dears
Those silly joints must last for years
One of the many dark deep fears
To walk in pain for years and years

And she’s walking as if her feet hurt
Each first metatarsal hits the dirt
I wish that she could go on home
And put her feet up all alone

I took the picture, of my sister and my son, in 1993 in Portland, Oregon. My sister injured her knee fighting fires when she was 22. Her knee worked after the surgery, but with crepitus within ten years. And her feet started to hurt.

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left foot, left foot, left foot, right

This is for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: challenge.

What odd challenge is this? I took this stealthie downtown two days ago. I am wearing my almost not socks. Or minimal socks. Anyhow, they are elastic lace bands around the instep. These particular sandals are very comfortable but I tend to fall off them when I am tired. Somehow the almost not socks help.

But… challenge? The picture reminds me of The Foot Book. It starts: Left foot, left foot, left foot right. Feet in the morning feet at night. And it goes on, a kids book. I have a loved picture of my sister reading it to my son when he was a year old. They are on the porch in Portland. My sister’s feet are turned in and my son’s feet are turned out.

The challenge is do you have a children’s book or poem or story or speech from school memorized from 20 years ago or more. I am not counting television or movie songs here: this is something read or memorized on purpose from multiple uses….My children are both over 20 and I still have a huge number of children’s books memorized.

Have a wonderful day.

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Rhody

We are in the week of our annual Rhododendron Festival. A tricycle race on Wednesday, run by my Sunrise Rotary. The Bed Race, the Pet Parade. Today is the Rhody Run, but I wore my feet out yesterday, with the Running of the Balls (one of our big Rotary fundraisers) and then the Rhody Parade. I walked to Monroe Street at 9:30 am and was not done until 3:00 pm. My phone went dead, but another person’s recorded 16,000 steps. I iced my feet when I got home, up on pillows!

And the local rhododendrons are gorgeous. Are they narcissists? Or just joyful?

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feature

I was thinking “feeture”.

This is a stealthie from Thursday. Thursday was complicated by unexpected events and was busy! I tend to dress up more when I am stressed. I don’t know why having tights that match my dress would decrease that stress, but never mind. Over a decade ago my nurse informed me that the office had me figured out: the shorter the skirt I was wearing, the more dangerous mood. People move to town and unload their work suits since we have many retirees. I had a red-orange very short skirt suit with labels in Japanese: that was the watch-your-step-with-me suit.

I don’t have that one any more. But I still have brightly colored tights that I wear some days! All went well in the end.

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Dance ready

This is a not very stealthie stealthie. I am ready to dance. The shoes have a story. My daughter and I went to Los Angeles for spring break years ago and to see my friend MP. She is a dance friend, and probably the person that I have danced two step with the most. We usually danced east coast swing in the Washington DC area, but every so often there would be a really good two step song. She led.

MP said, “You have to go to this store,” and handed me an address.

“I do?” I said.

“Yes. The owner designs shoes and has them made in Portugul.”

And yes, I did go and bought three pairs… ready to dance.