This week I stray from my usual subject matter and digress to a very practical one: damaged skin. After what seems like a lifetime of doing dishes, my hands have finally spoken. Damage is evident. Ugliness is evident. It’s a little late for sure, but I say, never say never. I finally woke up and started using rubber gloves this month. At first I didn’t like NOT being able to feel. But soon I was kicking myself for not doing it in my 20’s. The pluses of this simple change turned out to be more significant than I imagined. Besides protecting my hands from the ravages of detergent, I can grip everything better, and use hotter water. This might seem like a dopey Comfort Clue but… how many hours are YOU going to spend in dish water over the next 30 years. I’m guessing you want your hands to age as gracefully as the rest of you
- COVID Vaccination Day!
- Pillow Talk: The Darkside
- Egg Art and Kitchen Bondage
- The Art and Elegance of the Bathtub. An Acquired Skill?
- My Ukulele: Musing on Pandemic Options
- Election Relief: Hope Really Does Spring Eternal
- Voting 2020: A Date to Remember
- Feeling the Loss: Dancing Kept the Joy Alive!
- “Character” More Than Getting Tough
- Worry: Bad… Calm: Good