Emery

Yesterday morning I was working in my office when I heard a sound that I had not heard in years. skritchy scratch, skritchy scratch, skritchy-skritchy-skritchy. I followed my ears, and there was my intern, Lesley, busy at work with her nails and emery board. (That is who is in the photo- Lesley)

It was amazing- the minute I heard that sound I thought of Mother. She always has the best-groomed sensible nails in 7 counties. Emery boards are tucked away in every nook and cranny, in the tissue box, behind the ledge of the book shelf, in her purse, on the shelf of the end table, tucked into her hose. Beware, hangnails of the universe! You have no hope!

Seriously, her nails are always perfect- neatly trimmed, filed, buffed, sparkling clean, cuticles tucked away, sometimes clear polish. No colored polish, fake nails or (god forbid) air-brushed designs with sparkly rhinestones here. And she always took care of every one's nails, taught us all how to maintain them properly and tastefully. Barbie always has beautiful nails.

Not so much me. I don't own an emery board, or anything else except some copper polish that I have literally had for years- and that is for my toenails in the summer. I have never had a manicure, or a pedicure or anykindacure.... my nails are strong, sensibly short but that's about it. They are uneven, usually dirty with paint/charcoal/plaster/art crap under the nails, and if I get a hang nail I just tear it off, smooth it as best I can against my jeans, and carry on.

I don't bite my nails. That is one of the things that drives me nuts when other people do it- I am to polite to say anything so I just glare and look for something to give them to hold. (Theory being, if they are holding on to something- a cookie, a book, a wet brush- they can't be gnawing away. ew)

I do need to clip the dogs toenails again...time for the return of Torquemada!