Don’t Forget to Dig Your Toes In

Today I was feeling very nostalgic.  Actually, it began last night, as I took Chester out for a walk – he’s my (almost) 2 year old Basset Hound.  I love living in the middle of a big city, but I sometimes miss the countryside.  I grew up there.

Needless to say, in the middle of Dallas, one is not often very inclined to walk barefoot anywhere.  I saw a particularly inviting patch of emerald green grass outside the loft while walking Chester this morning/early afternoon.  I had slipped on some flip flops to quickly take him out.  After examining the spot to ensure it was free of detritus, I slid my foot out and let it make contact with the grass.  I smiled instinctively, and dug my toes in – it was cool, nearly cold, to the touch, and felt wet.  It wasn’t, though, and I was glad of that.

It reminded me of the endless grass growing up, and the way I’d walk barefoot outside as a kid.  Yeah, I was that country, I guess you could say.  I miss it.  It was a nice feeling, so I snapped a pic.  Now I have something to remind of that feeling…

Incidentally, while I am classically Euro-white, and perhaps prone to haunting the house with my whiteness, the hipstamatic effect enhanced it. ;-P


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