Snail season.

oh look over there   a hint of the continental

Today Gabe is wearing a green jacket, a grey sweatshirt, khaki pants, and brown shoes.

You guys, it’s snail season. What does this mean? It means my whole life has now become 100% about walking through my neighborhood staring straight down, everywhere I go, day and night, to avoid crushing a tiny snail shell under my shoes.

Last spring, I had my worst experience of 2012 (when I told Gabe this fact, he seemed doubtful that it was the *worst* thing that happened to me that year, and maybe he’s right, but this was still pretty terrible). Anyways, I was walking to my car early on a damp, misty morning. The sidewalks were wet, and the snails were out, and long story short – I stepped on one.

It was just awful.

I usually wear little ballet flats with super thin soles – and I was wearing them that morning – so I could feel the crunch all through my foot. And when I looked back, the snail was just sitting there with a crushed shell and there just wasn’t anything I could do about it.

It was awful.

And ever since then, I’ve structured my entire spring-and-summer life around this never happening again.

Which is also awful, because I live in a beautiful neighborhood! Especially when it’s warm out. There’s water, mountains, beaches, and trees, but to me – it’s all sidewalk. All the time.

This morning I just narrowly avoided stepping on one. Hello, spring. This year is mine. (And the snails’.) (I hope.)



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