It rubs the lotion on its skin

Darlings, Darlings. My poor hands, they are dry and the skin is in great need of moisturisation.

What little credibility I may have had has just disappeared. I have bought some kind of lotion or unguent from Boots to plaster on my poor, dry paws in an attempt to stop them rustling like empty crisp packets when I make a fist. Apparently I have sensitive dry skin. That delicate aroma of Christ knows what, is something that is apparently hypoallergenic, whatever that means.

Seriously, though, the skin on my hands is so dry you could almost strike a match on my knuckles and I have taken the drastic step of buying this bloody stuff before the skin cracks and I ooze everywhere. So I can live with the lack of credibility. The irony, of course, is that anyone who trawls back through this journal four of five years will read about me grumbling about how greasy my hands always were. Well, I’ve solved that problem by going too far in the other direction. How to strike a happy medium, eh?

The desiccating aspects of the current weather aren’t lost to me, either. With temperatures sitting at or below zero for the next few days and a permanent wind blowing in from the east, well, what’s a chap to do?

Kissy kissy, mwah mwah.

It rubs the lotion on its skin

Darlings, Darlings. My poor hands, they are dry and the skin is in great need of moisturisation.

What little credibility I may have had has just disappeared. I have bought some kind of lotion or unguent from Boots to plaster on my poor, dry paws in an attempt to stop them rustling like empty crisp packets when I make a fist. Apparently I have sensitive dry skin. That delicate aroma of Christ knows what, is something that is apparently hypoallergenic, whatever that means.

Seriously, though, the skin on my hands is so dry you could almost strike a match on my knuckles and I have taken the drastic step of buying this bloody stuff before the skin cracks and I ooze everywhere. So I can live with the lack of credibility. The irony, of course, is that anyone who trawls back through this journal four of five years will read about me grumbling about how greasy my hands always were. Well, I’ve solved that problem by going too far in the other direction. How to strike a happy medium, eh?

The desiccating aspects of the current weather aren’t lost to me, either. With temperatures sitting at or below zero for the next few days and a permanent wind blowing in from the east, well, what’s a chap to do?

Kissy kissy, mwah mwah.