It is sunny and balmy this afternoon, and so I decided to clip my toenails. My terrace is just perfect for the chore, and especially when the weather is as splendid as it happens to be today. I collected the clippers from the bathroom, took my socks off in the livingroom, and headed for the terrace in long strides. The decision itself made me kind of happy, for my toenails looked almost frightening after a couple of months of utter neglect, but I detest the chore itself. It is similar with clipping my fingernails, but the toenails take the prize. Which is why I clip them as rarely as I possibly can. But why? What in the world could be wrong with clipping nails on your hands and feet? The best answer I can come up with is that they would not need clipping in the wild, as it were. I would work with my hands and walk barefoot. The nails would be trimmed all by themselves. For the same reason, I detest shaving myself and going to a barber for a haircut. In the wild, I would let everything grow without a single thought about my hair, beard, or nails. The bliss. Luckily, the chore is already behind me. My toenails clipped, I can safely forget about them for a couple of months.