Hold out your hands to feel the luxury of the sunbeams. --Helen Keller
Despite lots of lotion, my hands are always dry. As always, the nails are clean but unpolished and short. If they get too long, I pick at them when I am nervous or in deep thought. Only when I've been pregnant have they been long and strong and beautiful. Upon my left I wear my wedding ring. We've been talking of getting it updated but I am torn to change it from the one I got on my wedding day. I do prefer silver tones, white gold, which is more trendy today. I also think I would like my girls to have my ring when I am gone -- the center stone for one (to make into another ring or necklace perhaps), two nicer (new) side stones for the other (maybe for earrings or a necklace too). A morbid gift I suppose, but it somehow brings me comfort to know where it will go after I am gone. On the right I wear my Eagle ring, it was a gift from my husband years ago. Recently I have put it back on my middle finger as I could feel it starting to slip off when bathing the kids or swimming at the gym. It is tighter than before but it has been years since I have even been able to wear it there. I love my Eagle ring -- it is Pacific Northwest Indian. It is chunky and maybe a bit out of character for me, which makes me love it all the more. To the Indians, the Eagle is the Master of Skies and is seen as a Messenger to the Creator. To see an Eagle when praying meant your prayers would be heard and answered. A nice thought to carry with you every day. I like my palms. My head line is straight, meaning I am realistic and sensible. My heart line is long, meaning I an very emotional. My life line is smooth and unbroken, meaning I can look forward to a long life. Do I really believe it? Not so, but fairly accurate and fun none-the-less. What do my hands do? Well everything. They cook and clean, they stamp and sew, they give and take. They communicate my anger with a wagging finger, or my love with tender touch. My husband rubs them when they ache and I infrequently pop my knuckles when I am nervous or bored (a habit which I have yet to break although it is so much better now than before). I suppose I take them for granted, but who doesn't really?
Despite lots of lotion, my hands are always dry. As always, the nails are clean but unpolished and short. If they get too long, I pick at them when I am nervous or in deep thought. Only when I've been pregnant have they been long and strong and beautiful. Upon my left I wear my wedding ring. We've been talking of getting it updated but I am torn to change it from the one I got on my wedding day. I do prefer silver tones, white gold, which is more trendy today. I also think I would like my girls to have my ring when I am gone -- the center stone for one (to make into another ring or necklace perhaps), two nicer (new) side stones for the other (maybe for earrings or a necklace too). A morbid gift I suppose, but it somehow brings me comfort to know where it will go after I am gone. On the right I wear my Eagle ring, it was a gift from my husband years ago. Recently I have put it back on my middle finger as I could feel it starting to slip off when bathing the kids or swimming at the gym. It is tighter than before but it has been years since I have even been able to wear it there. I love my Eagle ring -- it is Pacific Northwest Indian. It is chunky and maybe a bit out of character for me, which makes me love it all the more. To the Indians, the Eagle is the Master of Skies and is seen as a Messenger to the Creator. To see an Eagle when praying meant your prayers would be heard and answered. A nice thought to carry with you every day. I like my palms. My head line is straight, meaning I am realistic and sensible. My heart line is long, meaning I an very emotional. My life line is smooth and unbroken, meaning I can look forward to a long life. Do I really believe it? Not so, but fairly accurate and fun none-the-less. What do my hands do? Well everything. They cook and clean, they stamp and sew, they give and take. They communicate my anger with a wagging finger, or my love with tender touch. My husband rubs them when they ache and I infrequently pop my knuckles when I am nervous or bored (a habit which I have yet to break although it is so much better now than before). I suppose I take them for granted, but who doesn't really?
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