Sushi Socks & Seeing Clearly
I propped up my feet wearing socks grabbed from a jumble bin in a thrift store. My socks and I relaxed and listened to the teachings coming in through the closed circuit TV from the ballroom. Afterwards, Bev came over and said, “Let me look at your sushi socks.”
Sure enough, there they were…little prints of shrimps, California rolls, and other delicacies…bright colors on the black canvas of my socks…complete with chopsticks to pick them up and put them into your mouth…although, of course, I always use my fingers.
And all this time, I’d thought these little pictures were flowers, not clever popular culture statements.
I’d never really seen them before. My socks are hipper than I am.
I washed the socks and gave them to Bev yesterday…and this started a wonderful conversation in which I gathered a new term. “Peripheral Dweller.”
Bev showed up today in the lounge wiggling her toes…showing off the sushi socks…we told the story of the hidden secret revealed of the sushi socks…and then a maiden approached with Dragonfly socks.
Bev and Pam came to Chez Daniel’s last night for an impromptu pizza dinner. Bev told me that for a trip she counts out the number of pairs of socks she’ll need when she packs. She was one short! So, my gift of the sushi socks was auspicious.