Today, in my personal calendar, is the first day of Sandal. Actually, it's raining today, and some people were wearing sandals over a week ago, but the ultimate mark of the "Sandal Equinox" is that I, in the midst of getting dressed, decide that it's time to leave off the socks this time, and move into pedal nudity.

It's time.

Around this time of the year, a friend of mine used to send out an e-mail of "rules" about wearing sandals. Mostly, I remember them as amounting to "if you have ugly feet, or are a woman and unwilling to polish your toenails, don't wear sandals." Ummm...

The woman who sent this out was/is very obese, with hair even thinner than mine. I always admired her smile and her bright dresses that refused to futilely attempt to hide in a corner, but instead proclaimed her vibrant personality. She's also a Witch. I was a little annoyed by the e-mail, but disturbed that *she* was sending it out: if the same rules that she was applying to feet were applyed to bodies, she would be hiding in her house, or at least wearing a lot of dark, conservative clothing that hid her body uncomfortably rather than diplaying it in colors that suited her personality and often made her seem like a gigantic, cheerful flower.

I think I finally gave some indication of what I thought; she stopped sending the notice to me every year. I don't see her as much now, we're moving in different circles. But I sometimes think of that e-mail in spring and summer, and leave off the nail polish.