Pretty Hands

Surely not those of a construction worker

The hands playing the piano in the above photo are NOT my hands. That is just a free public domain photo from Pixabay. I could not play the piano if my life depended on it. Besides, my hands are a lot prettier than the hands in that photo.

All my life I have had both men and women tell me that I have pretty hands.

If you were to look at a photograph of just my face and nothing else you would probably come to the conclusion that I am an old fogey and you would be correct.

If you were to look at a photograph of just my hands and nothing else you would probably come to the conclusion that I was in my early to mid-thirties. And you would be wrong.

There is not a single liver spot on my hands; no age wrinkles or callouses or hyper-pronounced blood vessels. No scars. No deformities. My fingernails are immaculately maintained and reveal robust health (one can tell a lot about someone’s health by the condition of their fingernails). There are no bulging knuckles or misshapen bones. The skin is soft and smooth and completely unblemished. If my hands were just a little more slender they could be mistaken for the hands of a girl.

But over the course of the last couple of weeks that has suddenly changed!