hot-footed happiness

I’ve known for a long time that happy (warm, dry) feet make for a
happy backpacker, but I never thought about it much at home. I thought
my feet were happy enough around the house, and as long as they didn’t
hurt I didn’t give them a second thought. But now I sit at my desk
with the house cool and a little space heater at my feet, and the
warmth rises up from the very tips of my toes to the top of my balding
head and I bask in a glow of contentedness. With toasty toes I feel
great. Gears turn in my head that haven’t turned in years. There’s no
telling what I might cook up.