Went for a hike today with my mom, sister, and two girlfriends of ours. I was wearing some very comfortable flip-flops (I should have known better, and my mom did know better). Kay was the first one to go down though. Walking two-three miles around a beautifully scenic lake has it's down-sides -- you don't watch your feet very much. While crossing the unused train-tracks on our path, Kay tripped (like I do all the time, so I must have rubbed off on her) but ker-smacked her shin on the rails. Youch! She made it all around the lake, but she limped, poor thing. Then some creepy fly, or insect, or something, bit her on the other leg. Good thing the plantain weed grows well here to stop swelling.
I was probably only a forth mile away from our van when my very comfortable flip-flop broke. Ah well, rocks aren't all that bad, are they? Not when they stick up in the path. I gouged a good, deep, red flap of skin a good way down the front of my left big toe. It didn't hurt, because by that time, the bottoms of my feet were being burned on the sun-baked parking lot. That's OK. We are all alive, and maybe ready for it again in a week or so... maybe. :)