ONE HANDEDLY

A Comic Con attendee with a sense of humor.

When you have no hands, what do you need?  Many helping hands.  When you have one hand, you need to be able to pull things up and down all by yourself.  That’s the bottom line.

For the last 17 days, George has been in charge of things.  I let him have his way. Now I can officially drive a car, type with two hands, and pull up my own pants.  It’s still winter out there in the evenings, so I needed long pants that I could put on all by myself.  I have two good stretch pants, but they are ¾ lengths. 

Himself drove me to Ross last night after taking me out to my favorite Mexican dinner spot.  Now I have a navy blue pair of pants that I can just pull straight up.  There was a pair of levis too.  I could pull them up, but they were sanded down a bit much.  I rejected them then later went back and got them.  They fit.

Today, gloriously attired in denim instead of worn sweats, we were off to the grocery stores.  Took the Captain some Gator Aid, ate a candy bar as we were starving, and got home just after noon this 2017 day light savings time day.  GGGGGGGGggggggrrrrrrrrrr.  The fog is rolling in and out as the leaves on the trees continue to unroll gloriously.  George is making adaptations to his birdfeeder, and you can find me napping.