nuptial nails

Through great personal efforts at behavior modification, I have eight fingernails, to date. Not long fingernails--that's totally out of the question--but fingernails that are at least discernible as fingernails. I haven't hit the most intense period of gardening yet, and this concerns me, but eight nails is pretty good for the amount of gardening I have done. I think I could get up to ten if I could quit chewing off the nails of my little fingers, but that's not likely to happen, even for something as important as my wedding and showing off my lovely new silver wedding ring with embedded Claddagh design. Chewing on those tiny, almost non-existent nails is my miniature security blanket and stress reliever.

On the show Sunday Morning, they interviewed some hand models. One woman was really nuts and never did anything at all with her hands, ever. She didn't even buckle her own shoes. Her husband did all the chores. She wore gloves at all times and walked around with her arms bent upwards at the elbow so blood did not rush to her hands. No crafts, no gardening, no painting, no running of fingers through new green grass. How could a person live like that? Another woman modeled glamour stuff like diamond rings and expensive watches because she has what are considered to be perfect nail beds. (An aside, did you know that the first definition of glamour in Mirriam-Webster is: "a magic spell." I find that interesting.)

My goals are humble. Ten short nails, no bleeding cuticles. But even this seems beyond my grasp. I should probably get regular manicures but those places are toxic cesspools of stinky acetone, IMHO.