My feet need to be free. They don’t like being encoumbered by shoes or (god forbid) socks. My head and hands don’t like to be covered either, but I especially need naked feet. My grandmother (Sito) was also a free-footed woman. For her funeral, we all wore sandals with our toes painted red, her favorite polish, in her honor (totally bare feet don’t do so well in the Michigan fall). She was a knitter, chrocheter, and an amazingly strong woman. She is my inspiration. I hope to try and follow in her (bare) footsteps, and serve her memory well.