Man Hands

I'd like to think that I've got nice hands.  I can't promise you that there won't be scratches from working with roses or calluses from yard work, but I've always thought that I had smallish, feminine hands.

I can't say that I pamper them.  I work, I paint and garden.  Lucky for me, a friend of mine is trying to start up a home business.  She does nails, and agreed to give me a great deal.  Tonight I had my nails done.

She used some sort of bio gel over my real nails, which were long to start with.  The coating strengthens the nails and helps to prevent chips and cracks while allowing the nails to breath through it.  That means that you can leave it on as long as you want without doing damage; and she only painted the tips so that I can let them grow out without them looking unkempt.  (My biggest concern about having my nails painted is having to maintain them.)

I tried to take a picture for you, but I swear to the good Lord above, every picture came out looking like I've got man hands.  Which I don't.  It's not even a up for discussion.  I only got a limited number of attractive features: my long legs are a pain in the arse to clothe, and my good feet have failed me.  My hands are all that's left, and there ain't nobody gonna tell me that they're anything but feminine.

And so, all you get to see is one single, solitary finger.

Isn't it pretty?