A bump on my knuckle

It’s the closest to the top on my left index finger. I am fairly certain it is an old lady pre-arthritic bump –  or would that be a pre-gnarl? I have always had short and crooked fingers, but now I have a nascent bump. I guess this getting older thing is real. I knew it intellectually, but, whoa, we’re getting a litter visceral here.

I need someone to take a picture of my two index fingers held together in front of me. They both point forward for about a third of the length and then veer off – the left to the northwest and the right to the northeast. Sometimes it reminds me of a two-headed snake.

Yes, obviously, I am at loose ends tonight, just letting my mind wander around. I should turn on its GPS, but sometimes its just as well not to know where you are headed. That would be the ignorance is bliss thing.  Or close to it.

Aha, Der Bingle has arrived; I called out to the kitchen, “Is that you? There’s some ham on the counter for you.”  He doesn’t need to know I heard a voice 45 minutes ago and yelled the same thing, only to have Cameron answer, “No, it’s me.” Shane is going to the fairgrounds . . . because he is soooo spoiled. His paws may freeze but it’s the principle of the thing, dontcha know.