More so than any god, I am a strong believer in going barefoot. It’s a spring, summer, fall, and winter kind of faith. And I was calling for the almighty when out of our friend’s house Evelyn ran shoeless and the closest mom (not me!) said, “Don’t go out without shoes!”
I dug deep into all that’s holy not to denounce the demon from her right then and there. To be barefoot, to connect with the earth in holy matrimony, is a sacred bond, one that is severed by shoes, socks, and stockings. Like a sundial telling time by nature’s elements, so does a barefoot. As spring unfolds into summer, the use of the barefoot increases, across concrete and rock. It is through this painstaking toil that calluses develop, like a shoe of their own. With no need for $100 Tevas or Reeboks, the barefoot devotee is paid handsomely by an impenetrable layer of hardened skin, ready to take on even the most precarious of the precarious; a knocked-over wine bottle
Careening my head backward, so far that the backside was one fat wrinkle, I attempted painting with a four-foot roller atop a six-foot ladder. The pressed board surface is a nightmare, with flakes of it chipping and as uneven as a tile after a massive earthquake. To fill the golf ball-sized divots, I needed a generous amount of paint, but when applying each quarter turn of the roller led to raindrop-sized globs falling. On the deck, on my shirt, and in my eye. I’m here to report that latex paint straight to the eye is less stingy than soap.
After many “we should do that” over the past two months, today we successfully filed our taxes. The best news is that ol’ Uncle Sammy Boy, for the first time in years, is sending a check with our name on it via Pony Express. Which, now that I think of it, will likely go to buy more paint for the pressed board.
After an early counseling session tomorrow morning, I’m hitting the road for the ocean with Paula. We’ll clean and pack the cabin one last time before it goes on the market this Tuesday. We’ll sell it mostly furnished. Hopefully, the buyer likes the Airbnb-ready decor as an extra incentive.
After almost five years with our Copalis cabin, it’s time for the next chapter of our journey (plus the extra cash will help to pay for the roof and other down-the-line costs for the Georgia house build).
I’ll be starting up book-writing entries again. Perhaps tomorrow. If I’m not too busy looking out the window at the partial eclipse on the drive.
I hope you had an excellent weekend! Thanks for dropping by.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 