I wish my hip had magical properties

My poor grandma hip is acting up today more than usual. To comfort myself, I'm pretending it means that my hip can predict something really cool. Like the weather. Or the outcome of the election. Or what I'll eat for dinner! (wait a second...I can just do that all on my own. Silly me)

Tomorrow my hip predicts that it will be unseasonably warm weather for Utah.

The election will be too close to call.

And that I'll eat chili for dinner.


And here's a little article that has nothing to do with my hip. I just love the founding fathers. Grad school back east anyone? 

 

John Adams Gilbert Stuart 1826

Or Portrait of my Hip's Personae

That John Adams was such a grumpy pants.