I decided early on in this pregnancy that, if I made it to the third trimester (we’ve had problems in the past, enough said), I would treat myself to a pedicure during the final three months. Maybe even more than one as sandal weather is approaching (she says hopefully knowing full well she’ll complain about the heat when it does come. But, she’s sick of bending over trying to tie laces and slip on sandals seem pretty appealing right about now). I figured, correctly, that it would become increasingly difficult to reach my toes, let alone make them look pretty. Here they are in their blogging debut, 'looking pretty'.
I must admit that I’m using this pregnancy as an excuse to have a pedicure. I never make my toes looks pretty. I love playing with and wearing makeup but I’ve never been a girlie girl when it comes to nail polish on toes or hands. I’m more a ‘cut em when they need em’ kind of gal. I do not file my nails and I care little about cuticles or how you go about getting rid of them. I’ve had a manicure very few times in my life: when I graduated from high school, when I got married and today. It seems to me I may have also had one when I've stood at a wedding or two but, even so, we’re not talking a lot of nail care in 35+ years of life.
So, off I went this morning for a treat day. Toes, hands and some waxing on the ol’ uni-brow (my thanks to whatever side of the family it is I get that from…). A spa company in Ottawa has renovated a gorgeous old farmhouse just up the road from my house and this was my first time in the new facility. It’s gorgeous (check out The Spa’s website if you’re interested). With my three treatments, I managed to get around most of the facility and the owners have certainly done a nice job. The experience of having the treatments was lovely as well. I almost fell asleep during the pedicure. Spoiled. Rotten.
Para had a bit of a spa treatment this weekend too. This is "Para: the Cut Version (it turns out she’d been running around in the ‘uncut’ version of herself all along – eek!).
Every spring, DH decides that the dog needs a trim. She gets a very heavy winter coat and, along her hind haunches, the fur really mats up and seems to be very uncomfortable for her. However, normally I’m around to offer comment on the ‘trim’. This time I went to get groceries. This is what I found when I got home…It’s a good thing hair grows back.
This may be an indication of how dim the spring light has been here in eastern Ontario this year. This plant thinks it's Christmas!