Put Your Best Foot Forward

With sandal season coming to a close, bare-foot sightings will be few and far between. This past summer, for reasons unknown, I became obsessed with other people’s feet. I noticed the glittering pedicures on some, while on others, I noticed painful-looking bunions and hammertoes with digits going in all directions.

Ever since childhood, I preferred being barefoot. I dashed outdoors to fetch the morning newspaper covered in snow.  I walked barefoot through wet grass. I bicycled barefoot. I ran on sun-baked sidewalks without the protection of rubber between my soles and the concrete.

Over the years, my feet have taken a beating: stubbed toes, broken nails, blisters, calluses, and fallen arches. I’ve undergone hammertoe surgeries and cortisone injections. As if to add insult to injury, arthritis recently set in. Yet this summer, I seemed fixated on comparing my feet with those of strangers and acquaintances.

As I paid more attention, I realized feet tell stories about the people they carry. I found myself wondering about the lives behind them. Some look pampered and ready for a beach vacation; others seem like they’ve survived a lifelong battle. What choices led to glitter polish? Which families were able to afford sturdy orthotics?

My own feet, with their history of adventures and mishaps, have earned an occasional soak in Epsom salts, morning applications of eucalyptus salve (with CBD and CBG), and evening massages with Vitamin E lotion.

As sandals retreat to the back of closets, I feel a kind of relief. Cotton socks are a gentle mercy, a soft blanket drawn over years of wear and tear. Maybe this new awareness of other people’s feet is just another way of noticing how we all carry ourselves through the world.

Here's hoping that your next steps are your best steps!

The Cost of Peer Pressure

It’s everywhere. School and college, the neighborhood, the workplace….and here in the apartment building, and, yes, I’ve fallen victim to peer pressure.

We cave to peer pressure because, deep down, humans are basically herd animals with Wi‑Fi. The moment everyone else is decorating apartment doors—we feel an ancient tug in our DNA whispering, “Blend in, Judith… blend in or perish.” Our brains, ever dramatic, act like standing out will lead to exile, even though the worst that usually happens is someone raising an eyebrow and asking, “Oh. You’re not decorating your door?” 

Suddenly we’re nodding along, saying “Tomorrow, we’re going to decorate tomorrow” while wondering how we got there.

Seems almost everyone who lives in an apartment spends time and money on door decorations. Throughout the year one will find leprechauns, bunnies, flowers, crosses, flags, wreaths, art pieces, gnomes, skeletons, and Santas. Our apartment complex has a door decorating contest at Christmas-time—a contest, I assure you, my wife and I have zero chance of ever winning!

And peer pressure is sneaky. It doesn’t show up wearing a trench coat saying, “Do this.” It arrives disguised as casual comments like, “Everyone’s doing it,” or “It’ll be fun,” or “Come on, show your spirit.”

Next thing you know, we’re participating in something we swore we’d never do—spending money on chachkies to decorate a door that only a few dozen people will really see. Peer pressure is basically the universe’s way of reminding us that humans are gloriously ridiculous, and we’re all just trying to fit in without losing our dignity entirely.

Today, July 1^st, found me at the local Dollar Store. I hurried home to add to the few dollar store items we purchased LAST YEAR to celebrate our country’s independence. I added red, white and blue garland and a patriotic bow for Rusty, our bobbing-head dog greeter. And, for the outdoor barbeque we’ll attend, I bought two head bands with stars that flash red, white, and blue.

The cost of peer pressure for this July 4^th holiday was less than six dollars. With inflation I don’t want to think about the Christmas door decorating contest!

Happy July 4^th!

PRIDE

Hello Friends!

WOW! June is already here. And since it’s PRIDE month, it wouldn’t feel like me to let it pass without saying a few words.

As many of you are aware, Eileen and I have been living in Washington State since 2018. We chose Washington for several reasons: mountains nearby, the Pacific Ocean an hour’s drive west, the Canadian border to the north, and the inland waterways of Puget Sound. And then there’s the surrounding landscape—lush, green, and quietly affirming.

Mostly, however, we chose Washington because it allows us to live our marriage—and our lives—with authenticity and ease. 

Washington State—especially Olympia—is a place where visibility, safety, and celebration are part of everyday life, not just something reserved for one month a year. The state’s long‑standing commitment to LGBTQ+ rights, from comprehensive anti‑discrimination laws to inclusive healthcare protections, creates a foundation where people don’t just feel tolerated—they feel welcomed.

June’s PRIDE celebrations spill beyond the big cities of Seattle, Tacoma, and Spokane. Small towns, libraries, parks, and community groups join in, turning PRIDE into a statewide expression of belonging.

The Pacific Northwest’s culture of openness also plays a role. Washingtonians tend to value individuality, creativity, and community care, making it easier for people to show up as themselves without apology. PRIDE month here isn’t only about parades; it’s about storytelling, art, activism, and intergenerational connection. You’ll find queer‑owned bookstores hosting readings, tribal communities uplifting Two‑Spirit voices, and local organizations offering support and education.

For a lot of LGBTQ+ people, the parades and celebrations aren’t about making a big deal—they’re about finally getting to exist openly in a world that hasn’t always made room for them. PRIDE started as a protest, and for many people, it’s still the one time they feel fully safe and visible. You don’t have to love the parades, but they matter to the people who’ve spent years being told to stay quiet.

PRIDE is the one month many LGBTQ+ folk don’t have to shrink themselves. The parades might look loud, but they come from a long history of being told to be invisible.

It’s joy after survival.

Thanks for reading my postings. For more short reads: www.judykiehart.com/postings

Take advantage of Calico Lane, now on sale through Amazon! https://www.amazon.com/Calico-Lane-breaking-through-cultural/dp/B0DT9GPP9Z

Happy PRIDE!

Judy