About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Monday, August 05, 2013

I have a lovely new manicure.

And I'm a little verklempt. I don't think I've worn my nails this short since I had a newborn in the house. I love long nails. My hair may be thinning. My derrière may have dropped. I might have laugh lines you could park a Hummer in. But for the past 15 years I have had gloriously long nails.

French or American manicure when I was in the interpreting program. Variations on the theme of hey-sailor red once I graduated, for over 10 years. Pale, pale pink when I became a temple worker, because again the idea was to not call attention to myself, but I was thoroughly sick of French nails, if only for me.

Banjo Dude #1 said I wouldn't have to cut my nails to play the banjo. He erred. So now I have exceedingly genteel nails. My eighth grade home ec teacher would smile approvingly.

My exceedingly genteel nails and I are going to waft ourselves down the hall and see if I can get more than one string in tune before that section of the DVD is done. I really do need a minion to wrangle the DVD player while I wrangle the banjo.

Learning curve? Significantly longer than my nails.

In financial news, after half a day and the efforts or apologies of several people, I was able to get images of the checks I've written for the mortgage faxed to me so I could fax them to the mortgage company. (The bank account is set up in such a way that I cannot log into it myself as I do for my other accounts.) I tracked down the last two blessedly helpful people in the corporate directory, and also the names of their direct supervisors. One email of profuse thanks to the four of them.

I am one tired mommy.

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