#arthritic hands

[uncheckedarts]

WIP. Pyrography is a long, slow process when done by hand and so worth it as the artist has the opportunity to get to know a subject.

[shiraishi--kanade]

I respect tierers as long as they're not like, pretentious about it. "Tiering is how you show your love for the characters!" I'm showing my love to An Shiraishi by getting my 8 hours sleep in and baking delicious cookies. It's what she would've wanted

[bluberryfields]

Completed my very first piece of Good Omens fanart!

An embroidery piece of some ineffable feathers

Full disclosure: I am a total amateur, so there's tons of mistakes and improvised fixes as I confronted the consequences of my own "good" ideas (just like Crowley!)

I've got more ideas in the works, but my creaky claws (thanks, arthritis!) need a break

[darlingnell]

they should invent a needle that i can thread

[rosesncarnations]

My yarn is here!!!

[smokeys-house]

I don't know why the bedside tumble-up ever went out of style this thing is changing the night water game

[catboydan]

fiance got me a kindle for my birthday <3

[tumblingclockwork]

I love all my friends and their INCREDIBLY COMPLEX OC DESIGNS.

[merkerlerspeaks]

hate how much I actually physically feel it when Im stressed and how small easy things stress me

[misseyres]

jul display in old town / ramen dinner with the girlies / bus stop at 8am this morning / new (to me) anne carson found today in random bookshop

[stellarosa]

THE PAIN.

[darlingnell]

forgot to grab my compression gloves while i was at home tonight :/ dies forever

[relivephysiotherapy]

Arthritis is a common chronic disease which affects a large population of the people in the United Kingdom. From arthritic hands pain to arthritis knee pain center, arthritis poses a significant strain on the life of an individual. In this article, we will review what arthritis is, the types of services available in arthritis centers, and practical guidelines necessary for the management of this difficult disease. 

[fire-dwellers]

feeling very high school art class rn as in "it's not pretty but i did make it with my own two hands"

[foldingfittedsheets]

In general there wasn’t a lot of funny story material when I worked selling jewelry. People were much more formal and serious about dropping thousands of dollars.

But there was one weird thing that absolutely rocked my whole world when I worked there.

So picture this, me, a freshly minted sales associate ready to greet my first customer. In walks the most fashionable old woman you’ve ever seen. Fur jacket, designer clothes, dripping with jewelry.

I chirp a greeting and she tells me she’s in to get her jewelry cleaned. No problem, it’s a free service we offered and I was happy to do it. But she doesn’t reach for the ring, which in case you were wondering houses a diamond worth more than my annual income. She begins to raise her hand.

At first I watched with puzzlement but it soon grew into mounting horror as she inserted her beautifully manicured arthritic finger into her mouth and began sucking. She worked saliva between the fine jewelry and her knuckle and then triumphantly pulled her finger from her mouth, sans ring.

She then spat her glistening ring into her palm and offered it to me with the confidence of someone who knows she won’t be questioned on her manners by a peon like me.

Shivering with unvoiced disgust I held my hand out and tried not to flinch as she dropped it into my palm.

When I’d finished I ran into the diamond room where we all congregated and frantically conveyed the absolutely horrific thing that just happened to me. I was met with the hardened stares of people who dealt with this on the regular.

“All the old ladies do it,” I was informed

I got quicker on the draw to grab a jewelry show pad for them to put their slimy mouth rings into so I didn’t have to touch them, but it was a biweekly occurrence.

[sentientsheepdog]

(authors never written spoken dialect - please be nice{leave a comment if you're extra nice plsthx}, reader described to have thin(ner) fingers/able hands, no other descriptors unless you count being "young" enough for grannie nagging but so is Simon :3)

Retired Simon Riley joining the local community pottery studio because he has fuck all else to do and carrying around pottery for kind old ladies is a good use of his time. Enter you, Simons golden ticket to getting that damned vase Johnnys wife keeps daydreaming about thrown because his hands arent delicate enough to get the thin neck he wants and the golden girls are too arthritic in the hands to be up to the task.

You've never thrown pottery in your life, thought buying some clay and going to an open studio would be a great idea on an otherwise dull weekend. One of the older ladies hanging around the studio sniffs you out as a newbie on first glance and shows you the ropes - absolutely tears apart your clay choice but thats fair, you didn't read the labels that closely, oops, your bad. That day you leave with a humble pen holder drying on a rack with your name on it and the promise on your lips to check in on it, and the gaggle of kind ladies in the studio, later in the week.

Later ends up being kiln day, you make it in the doors just in time to be talked through glazing the piece so its ready to be fired and finished. Surprised but not scared by the mask wearing guy carrying trays of pottery to the kiln, your arms hurt from just watching him. Margarets amused chuckle has you reluctantly giving up looking at the eye candy in favour of looking at her with a confused expression. All you get is a knowing smile and a soft nudge to get back to the wheel - one piece done, a million more to make, deary.

Your next piece is a bowl, after a few fails and rethrows you have a fine soup bowl that perfectly fits in your hands. On the rack it goes, you're already thinking about color options for the bowl while waiting for the kiln to finish burning your beginnings - the ladies insisted you should take it home today, not too long of a wait over tea and cake is it, deary? It's not, you couldn't say no to homemade cake if you tried - "Tall, dark and eerily quiet" apparently can quiet easily, you haven't seen him since the last tray disappeared into the kiln and are almost certain he left through the backdoor. Technically you know his name, by the womens gushing over him and the single male name on a high up rack but he hasn't introduced himself formally.

Third times the charm, you planned on making a second bowl to have a set after the next firing, your plans take a turn when you find the studio almost empty. You freeze in the doorway, looking at the studio cryptid. Something thats hopefully a greeting blurts out of your mouth past the blood rushing in your ears.

"'ello, Luv. Mind 'elping me with sumfin'?", with that voice he could ask you for the stars and you'd get climbing, but you just nod and scuttle on over to him and his pile of spinning clay. "M tryin' to throw somethin' delicate, mind lettin' me borrow your 'ands?", he sounds genuine, if a little annoyed, understandably so, judging by the fallen in and torn vase remains spinning in front of him. You jump on the chance to turn his phrasing into a joke "Not opposed to letting you keep 'em, fuckers are clumsy, but we can try. I've got nothing but time today." Telling the stranger asking for your hands your schedule, great idea, so much survival instinct. Too preoccupied with mentally chastising yourself, you miss his delighted laugh at your quip.

You can't regret your loose lips for long, ripped out of your spiral by a hand clasping on your waist, dragging you into his lap. Maybe next time think about the logistics of lending out your hands before readily agreeing and ending up sat in a lap with slip covered hands over your own and instructions given quietly into your ear with a voice that has your knees weak. Then again you have no complaints about this situation.

The vase comes out looking exactly as planned, perfect gift for his best mates wife's next birthday, he tells you while cutting in off the wheel and putting it on his rack. You get to talking, first about his best mate, then how nice it is to not be the sole target of bored grandma attention (you've been there twice and are already tired of the questions, can't imagine what Simons had to put up with since he's been there a little over a year now) even if they mean well, then about anything and everything that comes up.

When you go the fourth time you do finally throw that second bowl, you have a standing lunch date now, that bowl will come in handy when you host at yours some time.