I’ve always looked at people’s hands. You can tell a lot from a person’s hands – whether or not they chew their nails, work in industry or an office, how often they get their nails done. But it only goes so far. The only man I ever knew who got regular manicures with his nails glossed was an ex-Army Ranger and HALO jumper who had been part of the dirty wars in Central America in the 1980s. You never know.
Looking at my hands now, I see the thumbnail I smashed while camping back in October, finally growing out. There’s dirt imbedded under and around all the other nails from mucking around in the garden today, but this one is too short for that.
And that will serve as a guiding metaphor for this blog as well as anything will.