You can tell much about a person from their hands.
I’ve never been a manicure person. My nails are short and that’s the way I like them.
No,I don’t bite my nails…I keep them cut, out of my way.
It started when I dabbled with the guitar and played the flute. Then I was a rock gatherer and a gardener… short nails stay cleaner.
I’ve broken my fingers while playing sports. Once, I foolishly closed one in an electric car window. OUCH! Still makes me chuckle though.
The feeling of a nail beyond my fingertip is very distracting. “Get out of my way…these hands are working!”
Have you ever seen some of those women who have nails that curl around their hands? To me, I know they have never toiled one bit.That just creeps me out!
My hands are bent with genetically imposed arthritis now. They hurt after a day wrestling with kids. Sometimes the kids step on them, often they grab my hands and make me wince.
How precious hands are…they are the first body part that a baby studies.
They brace you against a fall.
Your hands make everything your mind can create and sometimes they add their own special touch.
We give “hand outs”. Can be “hands on”. Sometimes we are handy. Handles would be useless without them.
Hands can communicate, as well as, words. Gestures speak volumes.
I say lets give hands a “hand”! They don’t have to be handsome to be handily helpful.
And don’t forget,”Every time you step on the brake, your life is in your foot’s hands!”