The transformation has begun.

Take out the trash.  Barefoot.

Go get the mail.  Barefoot.

Grill some food.  Barefoot.

With the exception of work (rules, oh dreaded rules), my feet will rarely see shoes until Autumn.

What’s that mean?  Leather feet.  Feet of steel.  Feet fit for roaming on the vast savanna.  Feet hardened like God intended.

Okay, I’ll admit, “Feet somewhat disgusting by modern standards.”

Nonetheless, feet roaming free.  The way I like them to be.