forget-me-nots and me, in the garden*
One of the greatest pleasures in the world for me is to not have to wear socks. I don't care about make-up, hair colour, manicures, facials, spas, perfume or anything like that - being able go barefoot or in Birkenstocks is my idea of luxury. Every winter I try not to forget that warm weather will come again, that I will be able to wiggle my toes in the fresh air, that my feet will be warm enough to be sock-free. But it's not always easy to remember.
Then, suddenly, one day in spring around the time that something in the air and light tells me it's time to sow flower seeds, that same something also tells me that Birkenstock weather may be coming soon. It happened earlier this week so I acted and bought a new pair (almost forget-me-not blue) from the very efficient Birkenstock website. Then I retrieved my favourite nail varnish from Phoebe (who wrote a lump-in-the-throat post on Monday) and had a little dress rehearsal to remind me how good it feels to go footloose and fancy free.
[I can't believe fashion writers are now hailing the return of the flat shoe as some kind of amazing discovery. Why wouldn't you wear shoes that enable you walk and move like a normal human being instead of staggering about in ludicrous heels that give you blisters and bunions and are the modern equivalent by choice of foot-binding?]
*ironically, I can't remember how we came to have so many forget-me-nots, as I don't recall growing them from seed and they weren't here when we moved in.