I love walking around barefoot. I love wearing open-toed shoes pretty much all the time. Even in cold, rainy Portland, I chafed against having to wear enclosed shoes, although it was obviously a necessity. On the few occasions I've worn socks and shoes since I moved to Hawaii, it's felt weird. My feet balk at the very thought.
I tried to take a picture of my happy, bare feet, but my feet ended up not looking happy enough, so I've decided not to include it with this post.
But trust me, they'll be sad feet if we ever move back to a colder climate. They will likely begin to demand pedicures again.
When I was little, one of my favorite things about summer was feeling my feet toughen up. In June, walking across the street in front of my house would be an exercise in careful stepping. By July, I could run across it, no problem.
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