Nail salon, home

Today was driving my convalescing daughter-in-law and granddaughter back home day, and while I would rather have had them here another week, this plan would have meant that Stasia would have to miss at least several days of school. So we spent the morning getting the two of them ready for the drive. One of the necessities, according to my five-year-old, was ensuring that her mom, who's had a rough time recovering from her latest cancer surgery, was "pretty," and this meant, as far as she was concerned, attention to details, new nail polish in particular. I hope the title of this post won't be offensive to anyone, and I don't mean to denigrate men who wear nail polish, but I have to admit to a certain amount of eternal surprise when my hiking companion goes cosmetologist on me. I was also surprised at her patience and quite good results. Stasia must have been practicing... somewhere, but really, not here.