It’s knit-along day. What I’ve got is Drew! It’s a pretty, and I’d suggest clicking on the picture to see a bigger view. It’s really cool. Good job, Drew! He’s holding out on us though, he’s not saying who it’s for.

I’d also suggest you go check out the hilarious photo of Janet’s dog. Isn’t it great? My big oaf does that, but at over 80 pounds, he isn’t doing it on the bed surrounded by pillows, so it has nowhere NEAR the same effect.

I am still sick, Nate is now sick too. The kids are in fine form, and WEARING US OUT! There was a point yesterday, after dinner, when I think we were each fast asleep on separate couches. The girls were on their own for awhile, and the house is still standing! This bug’s a killer. I felt my body shutting down and I knew I was falling asleep, the girls were all around me, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. Weird. The spontaneous sweating is getting old, too.

My point is, I don’t have any knitting to show you, but I just so happen to have a picture for you today. However, it is completely silly.

I am not a “primper”. I spend very little time on my physical appearance and still manage to feel cute most of the time. (There’s probably delusion there, but I don’t even care). I don’t mind being seen at anytime of day by anyone, so long as I’m wearing a bra. But I have to tell you, I LOVE pretty fingernails.

I’ve been an obsessive nail biter all my life. In the last five years, I’ve managed to get somewhat of a hold on it, unless I’m under particular stress. Unfortunately, thanks to some insurance company crap with my PIP claim and continued car accident pain, this entire year has been rough on the nails. I noticed a couple weeks ago that my nails were growing out again. I am ecstatic. Ecstatic enough to take a picture.

Aren’t they pretty? I look at them all the time. I know they aren’t perfect, as my french manicure skills are shaky. I like french, and I like bright red. I probably have 8 fabulous reds. Other than the occasional blue or green for fun, that’s what I stick with.

I have to hide when I paint my nails, because if I don’t, I end up having 40 nails to paint instead of just 10. 70 if they have toenails on the brain. Hiding rarely works. The girls smell it before they have a chance to see my hands, and come running.

So there’s a little something about me.