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D. wrote: "Martha wrote: "Ran barefoot on the farm? I wrote something about my childhood and going barefoot all summer and a Millennial writer thought we were poor. Actually, as a kid, I loved it! Except for ..."
Oh, but we were barefoot because we loved it. I remember begging my mother to let me shed my shoes in December once because it was 80 degrees outside. Her response, of course, was: "Are you crazy? This is December." That made no sense to me.

Martha wrote: "Ran barefoot on the farm? I wrote something about my childhood and going barefoot all summer and a Millennial writer thought we were poor. Actually, as a kid, I loved it! Except for the time I got ..."

We were poor, but didn't realized it as kids. We always were well fed, but grew up wearing my cousins' hand-me-downs. I never realized we weren't at the lower end of middle class until I reached Junior High, where the girls started dividing into groups and judging you by your clothes.

Ran barefoot on the farm? I wrote something about my childhood and going barefoot all summer and a Millennial writer thought we were poor. Actually, as a kid, I loved it! Except for the time I got a bee sting on my foot.