December 30th, 2002

bazille_summer scene

Wet Feet

My feet are wet. This is because my socks are wet. This is because I forgot to change into the shoes without holes in the soles before going out the driveway to pick up the morning paper. The whole time my feet were getting wet, I was thinking how much fun this would have been for me when I was ten years old. For some reason, I no longer find wet feet fun, at least not on a cold morning when I'm wearing socks. I'd probably find wet feet fun if I were walking barefoot along the beach, with the hems of the waves running up over them, and the sand crabs taking refuge between my toes. (That was always an interesting sensation.) But today, I'd rather that my feet had stayed dry. Now, they are cold and clammy, and I have to change my socks before I go to sleep. (I always have to wear socks when I sleep in cold weather, otherwise my feet wake me up when they drop below a certain temperature. Blankets alone just won't keep them warm enough. Maybe I ought to get some jammies with little bunny-face feet.)

Anyway, the rain continues, and I begin to suspect that I will be seeing very little sun this winter. A grey winter always makes the rare sunny day more enjoyable, just as a dry, sunny winter always makes the rare rainy day more enjoyable. It would be nice if I could learn to enjoy whatever is commonplace, rather than whatever is rare, but I won't hold my breath waiting for that to happen. It would also be nice if I weren't maundering right now, but that's more easily taken care of. I can shut up.