Why, you may ask, is there a picture of my raggedy tennis shoes staring you in the face? It’s because my children have warped me beyond all hope of redemption and I want you to share in the joy. Um, no
actually, that’s not it (although some days I wonder). It’s ’cause I’m weird and curious, or maybe just curiously weird…because that’s how the Good Lord made me and, if my Mom’s to be believed, it takes all kinds. Which brings me to my BIG BURNING QUESTION OF THE DAY:
How many of you cannot, under any circumstances, sew with your shoes on?
I am proudly raising my hand, ya’ll. I have tried. Repeatedly. Nope, not gonna happen. Something about decreased sensitivity to the pedal that’s underfoot if I’m sporting a shoe. Geez, does that ever make me sound like a man (cringe). So, it’s shoeless I shall go: in the summer’s heat and winter’s cold; in rain and sunshine;
uphill both ways with a 50 pound knapsack on my back. Oh, wait, that last part’s another story. Yes, I’m weird. Deal with it.