My hands are killing me

It's that time of year again folks. Oh yes, certainly we are nearing Christmas for those of us who celebrate it, and the end of the calendar year approaches, of course.

That's not what I'm talking about though.

Could it be the weather? We did get a little snowstorm here this past weekend....depends on your view of that...many people thought it was a terrible storm. I've been in terrible storms, and this wasn't one.

I'm not really talking about the weather though. No, it's the time of year when it's dry inside, it's dry outside, and the result? Red hand. Dry hands. Cracked hands. A lot of discomfort for yours truly.

When I was a kid my mother used to put lard on my hands and make me wear cotton gloves to bed over the lardhands. I admit, in the morning I would feel better, but by noon I'd be a bleeding mess again. Turns out that it really helps to drink twice as much water as normal. You'd think that the hot weather in the summer would be more dehydrating, but not really. You dehydrate faster in the summer, and in the winter it's a slower process that just never seems to let up. It is always dry inside every building in the winter. Even in Nova Scotia, where everything outside is wet, the insides of buildings are crazy dry in the winter. On Friday we're going to Winnipeg, King of Dry. "It's a dry cold," they tell you when it's -30C and you're wandering around outside. Yeah, it's a dry cold and my hands are bleeding inside my mittens, and that's gross no matter where you are.

The first time my right index finger split this winter, I panicked. The last time I had a split on that finger, I landed in the hospital for three days. So far, so good, but there aren't any bugs to bite me and I'm not out gardening, so I should be able to avoid the cellulitis. In the meantime, my fingers and knuckles are like the Grand Canyon, rivulets and fissures all across the plains of my hands. It's very painful, and at night I put antibiotic cream and a bandage over the worst of them. Some nights I've gone to bed with four bandages on one hand. It helps, and I feel better in the morning, much like I used to when my mum did the lard thing. By noon, I've got new problems.

I shouldn't complain, since other than the discomfort it's not doing anything else to me, but it's difficult to type because my right thumb is split in two places and there's a spot on my baby finger that's really tender....so I haven't been typing.

The year is wrapping up, I've finished knitting a few things and life is moving along. Hub's brother-in-law is near death in the hospital, we're leaving for Winnipeg on Friday as I said earlier. Everyone is busy, running around finishing things off (I'm finished with the shopping business, and everything will be on time this year. Listen, can you hear the angelic chorus?) and partying and gathering and socializing and worshipping and trying to find quiet time and looking for more parties to go to. It's very busy out there, and there's a ton of snow, and it's really fantastic and amazing to be alive right now.



Katie was totally not amused to be out in the snowstorm, she was not thrilled with getting her picture taken, she did not enjoy her walk while we all had snowshoes on and she had ... dog paws ... she wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. See how unamused she is here? "I hate this, could we please stop the indignities now?"