My toes are often cold  lately. Actually, they have been cold for the last year or so.  I fear that it may be hardening of the arteries that is causing reduced circulation in my extremities.   I have no proof of this.

I love ageing.

I hate having cold toes.  I hate having hot toes.  I am the Goldilocks of toes.   I cannot sleep if the sheets are tucked in because they press against my toes.

I do not like it when my toenails get to Neanderthal length either.

My toes will not meander whilst the length of Neander.

The only bone that I have ever broken on my body is the middle toe on my right foot.  I did this when I was training as a dancer.  It spent a couple of weeks taped to the toe beside it, on its right.

On the same foot, my big toe once suffered from a bad ingrown toenail.  I was competing in badminton at the time.  I recall being advised by the doctor to soak it Epson salts, which I did, dutifully.  After the  tournament, I recall taking off my court shoes to see my white sock soaked through a brilliant crimson.

For a while, my toenails calcified and got thick and brittle, particularly the nails on the on my two big toes.  They were brittle and yellow and crumbling.   I thought they were due to my psoriasis, but they have been fine for many years now.

The nails on my baby toes are ugly, stunted little  things.  If not kept trim, they tend to snag on fabric at the most inconvenient times.   This can lead to them becoming hangnails.  These hurt.

Other than that, I have no complaints against my pedal digits.  They serve me well and are superlative aids in maintaining balance.  they do quite well as directional indicators when my hands cannot.   They are good for holding my dog’s paw and he will lick them thoroughly clean from time to time.  I enjoy this.