June 10, 2024

Corn Chip Feet

The morning started early, and I woke up feeling rested. Over the weekend, we caught up on chores, so this morning, there was no laundry to wash or dishes to clean or put away. Over coffee, my wife told me she planned to sit away from the full-time employees of her current medical rotation. She told me they sat down and talked poorly about the doctors the entire day and she was tired of it. She also recounted how, after a few weeks of working, this circle drew in a new employee who had been relatively quiet.

Why was gossip so toxic? And why did people do it? I felt like a person who sat around talking about others was insecure and probably didn’t have enough work to do. The conversation took me back to a group I worked with while living in Mexico. The big boss there only had three rules, but he strictly enforced them. Break any rule, and he would immediately fire you, no matter who you were or what skills you offered. No drugs, no stealing; no gossip.

It always struck me that this boss viewed gossiping as something just as toxic as the two criminal behaviors. Over the years, however, I saw firsthand how all three behaviors negatively affected a business. You couldn’t trust people who couldn’t control themselves, or those who felt entitled to take what was not theirs. Gossiping was just another form of these same destructive behaviors.

I cleaned my office desk while my wife prepared for work. When she was ready, I walked her outside to her car. The sun was still below the horizon, but the sky was lighting in bright shades of pink. A doe and her fawn were feeding in the pasture. The small fawn was sprinting around, getting used to moving its new legs.

I completed a writing session before taking a walk into the woods. When I stepped outside, there was a large cottontail rabbit sitting in the front yard. As soon as the door closed behind me, the rabbit scurried away into the tree line. The sun was out today, but the heat had not yet arrived.

When I entered the trail in the grove, I passed by the familiar sight of a whole yellow squash lying on the ground. My wife had thrown it over the fence for the animals at least three weeks ago. Even though a lot of time had passed, the squash still looked fresh, with no signs of deterioration. I noted the animals weren’t fond of this vegetable.

I made my way to the small marsh on the west side of the creek. The water continued to flow in the southern stream, soaking the area. I stopped to listen to the sound of trickling water, always finding it calming. The area seemed pretty empty, and although I heard several birds chirping, I didn’t see any fly over the open sky.

It felt good to be outside, drinking in the fresh oxygen the forest produced. I hoped the small amount of carbon dioxide I exhaled made it to the trees. When I was getting close to home, I heard the faint sounds of my dogs barking from inside the house. This meant that there were likely deer out in the pasture.

I crept toward the tree line and glimpsed a lone doe feeding on the wild blackberries in the pasture. I took a few pictures of the scene and then made my way to the house, where I showered and got ready for work.

In the middle of an online meeting at work, I heard my stomach grumble. I was hungry. With only ten minutes before my next meeting, I went to the kitchen and snatched a bag of Fritos from the cabinet. I grabbed a handful of chips, eating while walking back to my office. When I got to the living room, I dropped one on the floor. I was going to pick it up, but I knew a dog would find and appreciate the surprise snack.

While switching dogs out before my meeting, I saw Axel walk into the living room. When I came back, he was sniffing the ground where the chip had been, so I figured he ate the chip. Axel looked a little strange as he stepped away from the area. He was moving slowly and looked awkward, staring at me like something was wrong. I called him over and he took one step and then held his front right paw in the air.

It was common for the dogs to do this when we lived in Texas. The yard there had stickers and when they stepped on one, the dogs would stop and hold their paw off the ground until I pulled it out. Except for Koda, who would instantly rip out the stickers with his teeth.

I inspected Axel’s paw. We both looked at each other in surprise when I found the stray corn chip tucked neatly between the pads of his paw. It wasn’t poking him, but it probably felt awkward. I bursted out laughing at the irony of the situation. Dog owners knew dog paws sometimes gave off a prized natural scent that smelled like corn chips. Here was my dog with an actual corn chip in his toes. Axel gulped down the chip in delight and I got started with my next meeting.

During my lunch hour, I took a walk into the woods. Just off the trail, I spotted a large box turtle walking. When I approached, it hunkered down in its shell. I stepped away and waited for a few minutes to see if it would poke out its head, but the turtle was shy. I snapped a few photographs, noting how faded its shell looked compared to the other box turtles in the area. In the past few years, I had only spotted a single turtle during spring. This was the ninth turtle I found this year.

I walked around, searching out patches of light that looked interesting. It was nice to be out in the middle of the day. Although it was not the preferred lighting for photography, I found it interesting how different the forest looked at particular times of the day. The walked started off cool, but I was hot by the time I arrived home. When I made it to the front of the house, I heard the faint sound of our new neighbor pounding fence poles into the ground.

While driving home, my wife called, asking me to make some salad dressing, providing some rudimentary instructions. Challenge accepted. I stirred in some Greek olive oil, balsamic vinegar, freshly crushed garlic, salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne pepper, and honey. It came out pretty tasty. While I thought my wife’s dressing was much better, she raved about the ad hoc recipe.

In the evening, we ate a sandwich and salad on the back porch. After, I sent her to go walk in the woods while I cleaned up. Time in the forest was always therapeutic, and I could see she needed the space to be out in nature, the time away from chores, and to be reminded that her current work was not the entirety of her life. Soon, school would be over, but this place would still be here. After she returned, we lied down in the hammock together, laughing, while I tried to tip us over.