Fingers. How could we live without them? I’ve spent more time wagging mine at the puppy in the last couple of months since we got him than I think I have in the last ten years at my kids. Then there’s Alex. He’s Deaf, so there’s not much communicating going on if he doesn’t have his fingers for sign language. Back when he was at the hospital half the time I had to ask them to put his IVs in his feet, so he could still communicate. They couldn’t leave his hands unwrapped (with bandages) or he picked them off. What’s kind of amusing is that I can swear as much as I want to (or feel I need to) in front of Alex without guilt, but I don’t dare give anyone the finger.
Fingers hold rings, but I still haven’t found mine. I probably lost it in the parking lot of the grocery store. Fat chance anyone would turn it in, but I’ve asked a couple of times anyway. There’s a Dollar Store there too. Maybe I should ask in there. One can always hope.
Funny thing about fingers – I’ve been touch-typing since I was a little girl. I learned on an old Underwood with keys you could get your fingers stuck between and letters that got stuck together if you typed too fast. But I’ve never been able to play the piano. It must be a different part of the brain. …then again, you have no idea how many typos I make in the process of typing a single sentence. It’s silly… glad I can watch the screen as I type.
The puppy finally got his cone off his head today. It’s been twelve days since his surgery. He’s looking very handsome without it. Pictures to come. Later. For now, with the cone.
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