Yesterday I kept feeling a wee prickle in the sole of my foot. It was almost a subconscious annoyance. For a while I moved my foot about in the shoe, taking it in and out as I worked and then without thinking about it too much, because it was a busy day, I took my usual gumboots off and changed back to my old boots, I worked a few hours more but still right on the edge of my tactile instant memory there was this little stab, like a prickle in the lining of the shoe. My brain did not name it I just felt restless and kept changing my shoes. I changed to an old pair of converse: which are uncomfortable at the best of times, then on to my pink jandals, then into my old favourite work sandals, by the end of the day I began to really FEEL the pain in the sole of my foot. Such a little pain. Like a stone in my shoe. But so insistent.
Then I was barefoot in this good hay drying weather and at last realised that the sharp pain in my foot was IN my foot it was a tiny piece of steel that had embedded itself into the sole of my foot. I had been carrying my problem around with me all this time.
It was not my shoes problem at all. It was me. My foot. I was the problem. No matter where I went I took myself.
Everywhere I went I took my foot.
Which is good. If it is my foot I can fix it.
Aunty Del. Pregnant? We are looking at Her right. Grass on her left, Baby on her right. I am now 57 percent sure that the answer is yes.
This afternoon we will bale the hay then the girls and I will load it into the barns. Half in each barn. This year remind me to keep an accurate count of the bales then write it down. I am terrible with numbers.
I hope you have a lovely day, and remember the best problems are the ones you can own. Wherever you go you take your foot.