Twinkle Toes, LLC

Gentle, Trustworthy Care for Your Feet—Right at Home

For many seniors, something as simple as trimming toenails can quietly become difficult, uncomfortable, or even risky. Limited flexibility, vision changes, circulation concerns, or medical conditions can turn a routine task into a real challenge. That’s where Laurie Feuling, owner of Twinkle Toes Mobile Foot Care, comes in—with calm confidence, skilled hands, and a genuinely caring heart.

Laurie is a Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN) with decades of experience working with older adults. Since 1999, she has built a reputation for being dependable, patient, and deeply respectful of every client she serves. In 2013, she completed specialized certification through the University of Wisconsin Foot and Nail Care Education for Nurses, which provided advanced training in safe, proper foot and nail care for seniors.

What sets Laurie apart is not just her medical background, but her approach. She understands that inviting someone into your home requires trust. Laurie arrives on time, listens carefully, explains what she’s doing, and never rushes. Every appointment is unhurried and focused on comfort, safety, and dignity. If something feels tender or concerning, she adjusts immediately and offers guidance—never judgment.

As the owner of Twinkle Toes, LLC Laurie brings professional foot care directly to your home, eliminating the stress of travel, long waits, or unfamiliar clinics. Her services are especially valuable for individuals with diabetes, arthritis, thickened nails, or limited mobility. Adult children and caregivers also find peace of mind knowing their loved one is in capable, compassionate hands.

Clients often say that Laurie feels more like a trusted nurse or family friend than a service provider. She remembers details, checks in sincerely, and treats every person as an individual—not a number.



If you’re looking for someone reliable, experienced, and genuinely kind to care for your feet, Laurie Feuling offers more than nail trimming—she offers reassurance, respect, and care that you and your feet can feel good about.

Your feet carry you through life. Laurie helps care for them with the attention they deserve.

My Hometown: Northfield, Minnesota

Northfield is the kind of place where people still say “Oh, you don’t have to do that” when you hold the door open—while secretly judging you if you don’t. It’s a town that moves at a speed best described as deliberate, or, depending on your caffeine intake, suspiciously slow.

Visiting Northfield feels less like traveling and more like being gently reminded to calm down.

The Cannon River runs through town, doing what rivers do: flowing calmly, reflecting trees, and refusing to be impressed by human achievement. Locals walk along it year-round, even in winter, bundled so thoroughly that only their eyes are visible. These walks are not only for exercise so much as for reflection, mild resentment of winter, and proving to oneself that owning a parka was a good investment.

Downtown Northfield looks exactly like what a Hollywood set designer would create if tasked with building “A Nice Place.” Brick buildings. String lights. A suspiciously high number of places to buy coffee. Bookstores that somehow survive in the modern economy by being cozy enough to justify their existence. Every shop seems to sell either handmade goods, baked goods, or the feeling that you should probably call your parents more often.

The town is anchored by two colleges—Carleton and St. Olaf—whose students bring an endless supply of youthful idealism, backpacks, and the confident belief that they have discovered Northfield before anyone else. The colleges are responsible for an impressive cultural lineup: concerts, lectures, performances, and events that sound intimidating until you realize they are free and followed by cookies. This is Minnesota, after all.

Northfield’s most famous historical moment is when Jesse James tried to rob the local bank and failed. This is not just history; it is a personality trait. The town reenacts this event every year, complete with costumes and staged gunfire, because nothing says civic pride like reminding outlaws—living or dead—that they picked the wrong town. The lesson is clear: crime does not pay, especially when the entire town is extremely prepared to remember it forever.

Living in Northfield means surrendering to the seasons. Summer is pleasant and busy. Fall is aggressively beautiful, as if trying to emotionally prepare you for what comes next. Winter arrives with confidence and stays too long. Spring shows up late, muddy, and unapologetic. Throughout it all, residents insist that this year’s winter “wasn’t that bad,” a statement that is generally never supported by evidence.

What Northfield lacks in excitement, it makes up for in reliability. You will know your neighbors. You will see the same people at the grocery store. You will develop strong opinions about which coffee shop is best, even though they are all good, and you will continue to go to all of them anyway.

Northfield does not try to be cool. It does not try to be edgy. It is content being itself: polite, thoughtful, slightly quirky, and quietly confident. It is a town where people plan, shovel their sidewalks, and genuinely ask how you are—and then wait for the answer.

And somehow, in a world that seems determined to be exhausting, that feels like a luxury.