Last updated on 11/02/2010
Summer is here…and it’s a great time to think about being barefoot! Time to stand in the cool grass with no shoes on, allowing the earth to gently draw toxins from your body. Time for pedicures and pink toenails. I’ve been reading posts about running barefoot and about Vibram Five Fingers, which are as close to being barefoot as one can get while wearing shoes. Seems there are Happy feet everywhere!
When I was a girl, I’d come off of the school bus each afternoon and ask my mom if I could go ‘barefooted’. “No”, she’d say, “the ground isn’t warm-enough yet”. Maybe there was some magic temperature at which the ground was “warm-enough”. My guess is that the longer she could delay our barefootedness, the better chance she had at keeping our minds on our homework until school was out for the summer.
Once the shoes came off, they stayed off for the rest of the summer. Wonderful long days…riding bikes, building forts, and running through the woods and creeks. We slept in our treehouse and walked to the Minute Market to buy bubblegum and Pixie Stix…all barefoot.
I grew up barefoot in more ways than one. My maiden name is Barefoot. Most people think it’s Native American. While that would be a proud heritage, my mother has traced the name back to Norway. There was a guy there named Magnus. He was in line to be the next king. In order to prove that he was strong and courageous enough to be the king, he had to walk barefoot across a bed of hot coals. He walked across the coals, and earned the title King Magnus Barefoot. Maybe the story is true. Maybe it’s a legend. It’s a fun name, nonetheless.
Some of our family recently spent a couple of days at my dad’s old farm house, in eastern NC. My niece and nephew, little Barefeet, were there. We had a great time wandering the dirt roads that weave their way around fields of tomatoes, onions, and old tobacco barns. I was delighted when we happened across the “Barefoot Rd” sign, shown in the picture above. We picked strawberries and played with puppies. The dried hay in the strawberry patches was prickly under my feet. The fine, soft soil was warm in the sunshine, and cool just below the surface. The children were happy and free, as was I. There is amazing liberation in bare feet that are dirty from play.
When we were kids, Grandma Mabel would always have us sit on the side of the tub and wash our feet before bedtime. I remember the clean smell, and the feel of the slippery soap bubbling up and cleaning the wonderful farm dirt from my toes. I loved to watch as the warm water rinsed us clean, at-least from the knees down. Refreshed, renewed, and with family, we each snuggled into our favorite cot.
There’s much joy in a barefoot girl like me getting her feet good and dirty. It means I’m alive. I’m wandering among the fields and chasing puppies…and from time to time, it’s good to pick up that bar of soap, and wash it all clean. So go the cycles of life…rest assured the shoes will come off when summertime comes around, and mama says “it’s warm-enough”.
Take good care,
Jane, what a beautiful trip down memory lane you just took me on. I was a barefoot child all summer long and am now a barefoot adult whenever possible. There’s something about bare feet on warm ground that just says ‘summer!’ to me.
Yes, bare feet are the best, ‘specially when the ground is, in-fact, warm-enough.
🙂
Barefeet were wonderful…except when they came into contact with those darn tree roots. Thanks Jane, that was fun!
Oh yeah, and the asphalt, ouch! Beestings, and stubbed toes….all part of growing up Barefoot, weren’t they.
Glad I got to grow up Barefoot with you!
🙂
Jane recently posted..Growing-Up Barefoot, In More Ways than One!
This took me back Jane! It’s beautiful. I never wore shoes in the summers as I was growing up in West Texas. I remember feeling (what I now recognize as glorious Mother-Earth energy) coming up from the ground and into my feet. It’s amazing how memories can take us back to the same feelings, sights, and smells. Thanks for the journey! Keep writing…
Thanks for being part of my journey, Brenda. Somehow I could’ve guessed you grew up barefoot. You still carry that energy.
I do love that memories take us back. While I work hard not to live in the past, wonderful memories can sometimes show us the way forward.
Take good care ~
Jane recently posted..Growing-Up Barefoot, In More Ways than One!
Lovely.
I grew up barefeet and I make sure my little girl has this chance in all ways possible. It´s a beautifull thing to let happen.
There’s nothing like the feel of our bare feet on this cool, beautiful earth. Thanks for visiting my site, Marilia!
Take good care ~
Jane
Oh, how you all did love going down to the farm where, as Jeff said one time, “Grandma has more dirt!” You might check out the bare feet on my Facebook account : ) I was going to change it last night but couldn’t. Strange coincidence or . . . Hmmmm
I might add the first mention of Magnus came from Aunt Sue (Sybil now, but it’s hard for kids to change). She found it in a San Jose college library, I believe. I only followed up on it. AND there are other versions of the story one can find.
Loved your sharing of your memory.
<3 more dirt
Love you mom ~
The magic temperature for going barefoot when I was growing up was an air temp of 80 degrees. We had the thermometer hanging on the front porch at my house that I have at the farm house hanging on the porch now. We kept a close eye on the temperature so we could get those shoes off real quick. We had one obstacle back then that most of you don’t have now. We had chickens running loose in the yard so sometimes you would step in a soft paddy of chicken residue. You could wash it off or just leave it and by the end of the day it was worn off. Good old days in the 30’s and 40’s. Jim
I’ll just bet you left it on 🙂
Yep … somehow I doubt you stopped to wash your off the ‘residue’ … maybe you found a nearby mudpuddle to swish your feet in. Good memories ~
<3 you dad ~
Hi, Jane,
I want to let you know how much I enjoyed this post and appreciate the “like” you gave me on https://www.facebook.com/ShirleyHersheyShowalter
I too am a barefoot girl who had to wait until the “ground was warm enough” to liberate myself from shoes. I not only had chickens to contend with, I also had much more serious cow “pies” to try to avoid. What wonderful memories a farm kid has when old enough to recognize those early days for what they were — days of wonder.
As girl I was a barefoot child too. My mom was a hippie girl, and I enjoyed the time without shoes or sandals, I spent all summer barefoot.
xoxo
Orianne