Old Comfort Palm
Immersed in gardening today, I was musing as to the prospect of actually developing green fingers. A detailed inspection failed to reveal any, although the dirt from the earth certainly lent a hue of its own to my palm.
It's funny, I never used to like my hands. Small with wrinkled digits, I needed them at work to shake hands, hold a dictating machine and type or take written notes. They always seemed to me rather ugly and the thought of giving them special care, least of all nail polish that might draw attention in their direction, was very much avoided.
Now, in retirement, they have been coming into their own and I feel finally that, as I mature, I am growing into them. Of course it could be that with all the hand washing that has been going on of late, everybody else has developed wrinkled hands too and mine now look totally normal. However, I'm clearly digressing as the impact of social distancing and weakening eyesight means I quite simply don't have a clue as to the state of anybody else's hands, elegant or not.
In addition to all the soap recently, since retiring I have been rubbing more hand lotion into them. It's not a vanity call but a thank you for the diverse jobs I now expect of them on a daily basis from washing up to digging, to painting etc..With finger joints that sometimes ache with arthritis and age spots appearing on the backs, there's more and more reason to cherish them.
In fact, I'm almost contemplating a self manicure and polish to lift my weekend spirits and flutter my fingers purely for self gratification. After all when I occasionally go out these days it is to perform essential tasks, which means wearing disposable gloves. Nobody, other than Mister E, therefore, has any chance of seeing my nails, painted or otherwise.
I am conscious that we are forecast to enjoy a day of warm weather tomorrow. Hopefully it will be the first of many, allowing me to get the vegetable plot set in record time this year. Naturally it means my mules will shortly be making their first appearance. Thinking about it, perhaps I'd better start showing the same level of attentiveness to my feet as to my hands. You'll not be surprised to learn that I've never liked my hooves either, and socks are definitely not a good look with open toed sandals!
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