Pamper Your Feet From Time to Time. . .

Your feet take a beating, so why not give 'em a little extra attention?

Even with correctly sized and well-fitted quality dress shoes, it's still likely that you'll have calluses build up somewhere on your feet over time, which might potentially lead to other foot problems down the road if left unchecked. So, how about accompanying the woman in your life to a manicure/pedicure salon a few times a year? It's wild and crazy, I know. But why not?

That's what I did with my wife this (Friday) morning when we took the day of just for us. After a large breakfast at our favorite quick and greasy (actually a locally owned restaurant where the gal who runs it knows us by name and hot breakfast beverage habits),we headed from Willamston back down Grand River into Okemos, Michigan to a nail salon and spa favored by my wife The Grand Duchess.

Without going into all of the eeeewwws and uggghhhs, let's simply say that my feet look and feel better than they have in years. Rough patches and calluses gone. Almost as soft as a baby's bottom again. And the hot rock treatment on my feet and lower legs at the end of everything was divine. The occasional pedicure could become habit forming.

What about your own feet then, men? How about setting those unfounded fears of being/seeming too effeminate to one side, and get yourself a pedicure from time to time. No one needs to know, and your feet will thank you for it. It certainly put the spring back into my step.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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