Magic sand
It doesn’t take Einstein to figure out how sand gets into my car and into my house, especially during the summer months. I can expect no less when I splash out among the rockpools, trudge across the sandy beaches and then return home, without, you know, rinsing my shoes and feet or anything. (Why on earth would I want to do that?)
It doesn’t even take a genius to know how sand originally got into my running shoes. I’m pretty sure our run along Sandwich Bay to the River Stour estuary a few weeks ago did the trick.
But, I cannot figure out how sand keeps re-appearing in my right shoe. Every time I remove my shoe and sock, out comes half of Thanet. I stick my hand inside. Nothing there. I vigorously shake the shoe upside down. No golden grains pile onto my floor. And yet, I can nearly guarantee you, the next time I remove my shoes and socks, I’ll have more grains for our living room sandbox.
I’m okay with that. It reminds me life is good.
Monday, 11th August 2008 at 15:46
hey naners, pull out the insole (superfeet, whatever you’re using) and check out what could be a veritable second beach underneath.
Monday, 11th August 2008 at 17:55
Ha ha! I know. I did that a couple hours ago, and still after my run, I have sandy toes! Ah well, hopefully it will all work its way out eventually!
Tuesday, 12th August 2008 at 23:34
You’re a real beach lover!