Today was the first day of this year in which I was able to go outside without shoes. I consider this to be an occasion for celebration and reflection. I was not always able to step out in such a manner. When I was still just a small child, it was discovered that my feet, once unshod, produced a mighty toxic gas. We lost my favorite pet sloth, Pinafore, when she couldn't leave the room quickly enough to escape the fumes. The Sheriff was not amused. I was ordered to keep my shoes on at all times, but that only kept the smell contained to a small area.
Our cats, Doc Marty and Doc Smiff (a most ingenious pair of docs), preferred to play with Stinky Potts, the boy next door who had a severe problem, breaking wind constantly. And yet he was more welcome than I was.
As I grew to adulthood, I was chased from town to town . Nobody wanted my feet within their city limits, not even in shoes. The risk was too great.
Each time I thought I'd found a safe place, with sturdy, strapping men who could endure the exposure,
I was at my wits' end. And, then, somebody told me about
Witch Doctor Scholls.
He worked his juju on me, and instead of men running from the thought of my feet exposed to air,
my true love, is here to stay.
And my feet are free to run and splash in puddles in the Spring, and to run in the grass with while my new cat, Iolanthe, watches from a comfortable distance.
All pictures are from the book, "The Adventures of Tim Tyler", according to the title page, "Adapted from the famous newspaper strip by LYMAN YOUNG", published by the Saalfield Publishing Company of Akron Ohio and New York, in the year 1934. The book is filled with extremely politically incorrect notions and illustrations, so I've had a bit of my own fun with it. I hope the heirs to Lyman Young take no offense. I'm very fond of this little pile of pulp.
Further, I really did go outside barefoot, today, for the first time this year. I splashed in a puddle or two. It was MAHvelous. Thunderstorm included.