I'm not a girly girl. Anyone who knows me in person, and even a bunch who don't, know that. I don't wear makeup except on special occasions, I don't worry too much about the clothes I wear as long as they are practical, comfortable, and semi-decent, and I only own six pairs of shoes, including my hiking boots. You will never hear me say "I must have left that in my other purse." I wear my hair in a ponytail 98% of the time. And I almost never get my nails done.
But I did today. My girls and I met up with the fabulous Stacy and we got our nails painted purple.
Clockwise from top left - Stacy, Trout, Sunny, me.
Because she's warm, and smart, and funny, and strong, and has always made me smile. For Susan, I put on The Bloggess' red dress and let someone else take my picture, even though I'm nothing but a dowdy housewife with no conceivable reason (or the body stature) to wear a red strapless ball gown. But I did it because Susan asked me to. And if it will make her smile, I'll paint my whole body purple and be the most purplicious princess there is. But we started with just our nails.
The last time I got my nails done, in 1995, the woman who did them accused me of never working hard, because my hands were too nice. This time, I wasn't surprised that there were no such comments. My age and life work show on my hands. This time, the woman told me my eyebrows looked like bushes, and I should let her clean them up. I told her to leave me as nature intended, but with my nails painted purple.