I loved to go barefooted. And by going barefoot my feet were pretty tough. One time I remember my brother Weldon being barefoot and struggling to walk I across some gravel. I showed him how it was done by running across. My mom had a hard time getting shoes on me. I sure I would have gone to church barefooted if I could get away with it.
Even though I could run across gravel, I learned that freshly cut alfalfa was much worse. My father took us with him to haul hay. He suggested shoes but I declined. I had walked on alfalfa before, of course when is was full and bushy. This freshly cut stuff was a different story. It was like walking on pokey sticks. I was at a lost, and I struggled to get to the edge of the field.
The other drawback to running on rocks was the occasional stubbed toe.
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This is not my toe, but shows a stubbed toe |
I had my share, and they usually required my father to trim the nail with scissors, and then apply hydrogen peroxide. I thought that bubbly stuff would be the end of me. I would blow on it, trying to over come the stinging.
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