My hand and arm are doing better, but I’m still having pain with certain movements.  I managed to get groceries last week, but I need to do wash and change my bed, and take out garbage.  It takes two hands to carry the plastic clothes basket, two hands to make the bed, and it takes two hands to wrestle the plastic bag out of my flip top stainless steel trash can, and maybe Tuesday.

When I bought groceries, I bought a six-pack of eggs.  When I was frying up a pair of them for breakfast, I happened to glance at the egg carton and noticed a grammar error.  Much like the northern US, we have bilingual products here, too, although usually the other language besides English is Spanish.  (Occasionally we do get English/French, depending on the product, and sometimes all three.) Anyway, the labeling on the egg carton proclaimed that I had Huevos Grande.  (Grade A Large Eggs)  Of course, it should be “Huevos Grandes.”  Alguien no estaba prestado atención.

Today is leap day, not one of my favorite red lettuce days since it only happens during a Presidential election year.  This whole election business gives me the pip.  I have studiously avoided watching TV for health reasons.  All the campaign ads jack up my blood pressure, and Donald Trump rubs my dander the wrong way, bigtime.  If I had my way, he’d win the Republican nomination, run against Hillary Clinton, and she’d beat the socks off him.  Just think.  Then we could have such fun working out what to call Bill (that could be said in front of the children, that is . . .) Would he be the First Gentleman? (There would, no doubt, be some rather brisk debate as to whether he qualifies as a gentleman at all, never mind a First one.)  But, as a former President himself, he would also be the first spouse of a President to have also been President (there’s a precedent for you).

At some point today, I have to go to the bank and pay my rent.  I also have to meet my BFF at Sears so she can get a cellphone. I also have to go over to my mom’s and find out what the deal is with the TV in her bedroom.  All she gets is snow.  There’s no telling.  The cable box she’s got back there is 2 years older than dirt.  It may have finally gone kaput.  Such is life.