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Going Barefoot Can Ruin a Vacation

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Going Barefoot Can Ruin a Vacation                                                            January 12, 2020

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Both Jerry and I loved to go barefoot. We didn’t have the nice “tennies” of today with bright colors and cushioned insoles.

 

We had stiff leather. They had to be broken in before they felt good. Usually the breaking in included a blister or two.

Sometimes we had “hand-me-downs” that were already broken in for us.

 

The tennis shoes were the high top variety. In the early grades we didn’t have PE where we had to wear tennis shoes in the gym. So, I didn’t have a pair until I was in intermediate school.

 

On the first warm day in late winter or early spring, we’d ask, “Can we go barefoot?”   

 

So Mom had a rule, “No going barefoot or short pants until we see the first robin of spring.” 

 

We would be checking almost every day for that tardy bird. We’d listen for his call. We would even try to convince her that any bird we would be as good as a robin. We never won the debate so shoes waited for a robin.

 

(Maybe my desire to be barefoot laid a foundation for living in Hawaii where we wear “slippahs” and leave them at the door.)

 

We didn’t have garbage pickup in Peach Orchard. Almost everything was recycled, not that we knew what that was. Bottles and jars would be used again and again to store jellies and jams or canning vegetables. A box from the store became a cache for keeping photos. Food scraps fed the dog. Anything decomposable would be buried or covered over in the garden. For the few things that couldn’t be used again, we had a “burn barrel.” That was a big 55 gallon barrel with the top cut out and holes punched in the side to let in air to feed the fire. There wasn’t a lot that went into that container. 

 

As you would expect, some things ended up broken, bent, twisted or plain discarded. Often the place they were cast aside would be in the yard around the house. 

 

When we moved into the house, we discovered an accumulation of broken bottles, bent nails, barb wire (bob wire) and other things to attack bare feet. Usually the cuts and punctures were not too serious but when it was metal, we had to get tetanus shots at Dr. Shoals’. Those shots hurt!

 

One spring day, when the flowers began to release their fragrance and the robins were on their way, my folks determined to avoid injured feet. Pop swept the yard with the huge bamboo rake, picking up every possible danger. Mom followed looking for the tiniest object that may have been missed. An empty cardboard box soon contained broken bottles, an assortment of screws, a piece of a mirror, bent nails, and multiple objects of potential harm. Since Pop knew the activities of his two sons, he reached as far under the porch and house as possible with his big yard broom, pulling out additional garbage. (Did he really think that I’d crawl under the house with all those spider webs? Well, maybe if our ball went under there.) 

 

That spring demanded additional care because we were going to take a vacation. Plans were already made in detail and neither parent wanted anything to interfere with it.

 

Finally the yard was cleaned, inspected and declared safe. Soon we were happily running around without shoes. My folks felt confident in their masterful work. No possible interference with a great vacation.

 

Dr. Shoals’ office, which we had visited for previous emergencies, tetanus shots and vaccinations adjoined our property on one side.

 

On the other side was the blacksmith’s shop. For an eight year old boy that was where all types of exciting and interesting things took place. There were always sounds of grinding and sparks flying as plows were sharpened. Red hot horseshoes were hammered on the anvil. The bellows whooshed, feeding air to hot coals causing the metal to turn from black to red to almost white. 

 

Most exciting of all, was the bright white flash and crackle of welding as the black hooded blacksmith touched a small rod to a piece of metal and the arc would light up the whole building. We had been warned not to look at the arc for it could blister the eyes. When I would see the flashes of man-made lightning, I would head over to one of the windows facing our house. I was careful not to look directly at the weld spot. Most of the time, the welder or a piece of equipment was blocking my view anyway. I got a little adrenaline charge to see the brilliant flashes and the heavy shadows cast on the walls and ceiling.

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Pop called us together to share our plans. “Next week we are going on vacation to Current River. We will be staying in a cabin right on the road across from the river. You’ll be able to swim in that cold river that is fed by Mammoth Springs in Missouri. It is one of the largest springs in the world. We’ll be able to fish and ride in a boat.”

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Then as an afterthought, knowing us as he did, he said, “Be careful. We don’t want anything to happen that will spoil the vacation.”

 

Swimming, fishing, boating, playing in the water! Wow! We were excited. I had heard the word “vacation” before; I knew it was something you did for fun. We had never taken one. This great new idea grabbed us. Now Jerry and I were excited as we  began to make plans. Every day we asked our parents, “Is this the day we are going on vacation?”

 

A few days later, flashes through the blacksmith’s window were too much for me. I climbed on a large pipe that was next to the building. I had an excellent view through a cracked glass to see the blacksmith touch his magic wand to the metal. I closed my eyes when I thought there might be danger of blindness. Through my closed eyelids I could still see the brightness. As soon as the flashing stopped I opened my eyes. Then I would look away to watch the figures dance on the walls as he created another arc. 

 

Standing on a round pipe, opening and closing my eyes, glancing back and forth is not the safest way to prepare for a vacation. Then it happened. 

 

I slid off the pipe toward the shop. 

 

My folks had done their job of raking everything up to the pipe. They had cleaned out carefully against it. But I fell toward the building and the uncleaned area. I landed on a board that had four nails sticking straight up. Three of them went into one foot and one into the other. I couldn’t pull it off my feet. To lift one foot would push the other down more on the nails. I screamed in pain and fell to sit down on the pipe but went over backward, landing my feet up in the air, screaming in pain. 

 

Mom came running to my rescue. She grabbed me and saw what had happened. She grabbed the board and one ankle.

Yanking hard she separated the foot with one nail from the board. Then she repeated the same process on the other foot removing the remaining nails. Then she carried me to Dr. Shoals. I thought four things sticking in me was enough but he wanted to stick in one more for tetanus prevention. Now not only did both feet hurt but my arm also!

 

She carried me back to the house since I couldn’t walk with the pain and the white bandages wrapped around both feet. 

 

When Pop came home, she said, “Well, guess who just ruined our vacation tomorrow?” I was afraid to look at him admitting my quilt.

 

“And I have everything prepared ready to leave.” she added. 

 

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow?!” I didn’t realize the next day was the start of our vacation. What had I done? I had ruined a great vacation! We’d have to stay home! No swimming! No fishing! No boating! Plus both Mom and Pop will be mad at me all week. 

 

Now a pain in my heart replaced the pain in my feet and arm. I began to cry again.

 

“No.” Pop determined. “We’re not going to let this ruin our vacation.” 

 

After a restless night, between pain, guilt and fear that I might be left behind with Grandma, I tried to hobble to the breakfast table. The pain was too much. I sat with my bandaged feet as Pop loaded the car. Suitcases were placed in the trunk of the Chevy alongside baskets of food Mom had prepared. Extra pillows were pitched in the back seat.

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Then Pop carried me piggyback to the car. I carefully climbed in, propped my feet on the pillows and we were off on our first vacation. 

 

When we stopped for lunch, Pop carried me piggyback into the cafe. When we arrived at the cabin, I got the royal treatment of a piggyback ride into the house. For most of that week, it was piggyback to the river, piggyback into the boat, piggyback to the cafes, piggyback to the movie, and piggyback everywhere.

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I never did ask Pop how he felt about that vacation but for me, it was one of the very best.

 

Deuteronomy 1:31 In the wilderness. . . there you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.”

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