Sorry so quiet today, but last night, just as the sun went down, I went outside barefoot. Lovely, yes? The weather was fab, the moon was low in the sky, the evening breeze teased with daffodils.
Ew, ew, ew. I can't seem to wash my foot enough. I have like a foot-memory of the wet squish right where the bottom of my heel meets the arch. Ack.
I may need therapy.
PS: WAIT! You know what? Yesterday a bird pooped on my shoulder at Polo Park.
Coincidence? I think not.