Things Aren’t Always As They Seem

Things Aren’t Always As They Seem

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Things Aren’t Always As They Seem

I helped my husband, Randy, pluck raspberries from our bountiful bushes the other evening. Shortly after sampling our red, squishy haul, I removed my Crocs to get ready for a shower. Whoa. My eyeballs popped when I spied what looked like blood on the bottom of my foot. As a boo-boo magnet with a high tolerance for pain (translation: not always totally aware), I quickly felt around for a cut. I found nothing suspicious. During…

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