Day 42: Today walk barefoot on grass.Posted: February 11, 2011
Barefoot? On grass?
Problem number one: all the grass is dead. Because, uh, it’s February, and I’m 33° north of the equator – so it’s winter. And the grass is dead. Hell, there’s still snow on the ground in some places – and one of those places is my back porch, which I walked across (barefoot) to get to the grass in my backyard.
The second problem should be obvious: it’s cold. The high today may have been in the upper 40s, but when I walked barefoot in the grass this morning, it was barely above freezing. Oh, and there was still snow on the ground. Which I walked across. Barefoot. For miles. Uphill, both ways, carrying a bag of concrete. Did I mention that already?
This would have been so much more fun in May, when it’s warm but not broiling, and the grass is green and soft, and the birds are chirping happily. Instead, it was cold, and the grass was brittle, dead, and frozen – each crunchy brown stalk was crusted with frost. But I went out there barefoot anyway, dammit, because some stupid Book told me to.
It wasn’t worth it. The rest of me was nice and warm – had my coat on and everything, I was ready to head to campus – and my feet were cold and angry. After standing in the cold grass long enough to take a photo, I went back inside, dried my feet off, put my socks & shoes back on, and went about my day like nothing had happened.
It was anticlimactic. At least with the annual New Year’s Eve pool jump – and yes, I know that calling New Year’s Eve “annual” is redundant, but I like how it sounds – I say, at least jumping into a cold pool in late December is a commitment – and you feel like you’ve earned a drink (or two, or three) afterward (or at least I do – I was born in Arizona, after all, I don’t like to be cold and wet). But after walking around barefoot this morning, I just felt silly.
No, more than silly. Ashamed. And shame is an emotion I feel
all the time almost never. Fucking Book.