I have fantastic hands. They are getting kind of old looking with freckles, sun spots, fat knuckles and raised blue veins that bulge on occasion. I do a lot with my hands. Like, try to shove on my wedding ring before my fingers swell. There is nothing better than getting on that symbol of love and then wonder if you might need wire cutters to get it off at bed time.
My hands are low maintenance too. Polish looks ridiculous and fake nails send off an "I'm cheap and cruddy looking" vibe. Saves a lot of money in hand upkeep. My hands can single handed (pun intended) save a marriage. They are too weak to open a jar, or twist, bend and torque things. Makes the hubby feel all manly and strong. They also keep me from doing silly things like boxing and rock climbing. See all the great things I don't have to do? If someone asked me to go climb a rope or dangle from that rock, I could say no because I have bad hands. Awesome!
I have arthritis. I know I am too young. In fact, I've had arthritis since I was 28 and it is great to be 32 and have granny hands. Why? Arthritis makes me gentle. It makes me touch kindly and hug instead of hand shake. I don't smack, punch or grip (not that I would want to). I have found that elbows come in handy. Who knew I could scrub the shower tile hands free? And every day I am amazed that I can still paint and write a story.
So why would I be so happy that I have cruddy hands? Because it is raining out and my joints are swollen. My hands hurt like the dickens... BUT, I discovered that when my hands hurt, I can't do laundry or the dishes (two things that can't be done with my elbows). DANG! Well, I guess I'll just pick me up a book, settle down on the couch and wait for my hands to deflate.
Happy Monday folks!