An Open Letter to My Feet
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2I5DrbrWaasUeNbDfnarj5_a1RvNTMO5eASRsFplfTTyircwAWHUM5NKAOm3O1SIAVRYp7Yqf5j7DjHIsyvnqsukV-3MJTHAdSsIxXApXjN1CQqm-9p1FmQSF8GQFDe91Qo8f9-zREwd7Cie/s640/barefeet.jpg)
by Andrea Mulder-Slater Dear feet, I’m sorry. I mean, here we are in Florida and there you are, completely and totally naked. But here’s the thing. I forgot your warm-weather shoes at home. In the closet. As you know, our exodus from the snow-ravaged north was rushed (what with the back-to-back storms heading our way) and as a result, so many things were left behind. My favourite black Capris, that cute sunhat I ordered online, the poolside read I had picked out specifically for this trip… All of it, forgotten. In the cold. So here we stand, on this gorgeous salty beach, next to my happily barefoot daughter. Exposed.