Sunday, December 4, 2016

Tis the Season

Step four of Fio's Christmas decorating. She decked the driveway with strands of tinsel last weekend, got all the storage bins in during the week, and yesterday she put together the twenty-year-old family Christmas tree. Come afternoon, Austin son and his wife drove up from Bastrop to put up the lights and decorate the tree, which is a monumental undertaking because Fio has MOUNDS of ornaments. She posted a photo of the wonderful results on FB this morning, but she still has to roll her mother's embroidered tree skirt under the branches. Step four will be the swag along the staircase railing, which will take at least a day, and step five will be hanging the plastic snowflakes from the little tree out front, which Husband usually is kind enough to help with. Later will come the swags over the living room door jamb, the dining room door jamb, and the dining room window. By Christmas day, every shelf and surface in the house will be loaded with tinsel and Christmas what-nots. Yes, Fio is a decorating fool. ENJOY!

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Luann Rules!

Back to Luann. The comic strip has really picked up speed since its rocky transition from her high school days to her college career. Fio has especially enjoyed following the maturation of her brother, Brad, and his relationship with Toni Daytona. She likes Luann's parents too, and she also appreciates the fact that some of the students from Luann's high school are still in the scene--Bernice, Gunther, Tiffany--and that some have reentered the story lines, namely Leslie (the high school bully who is reforming himself), that Goth girl  (but where is Knute?), and Ox,  Now Fio wants to follow up on the teacher, the guidance counselor, little Elvis, and Bernice's brother. Inquiring minds want to know.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Christmas Sonnet, 2016

Fiorella has received her first Christmas card of the season so now it's time to release her own greeting, a sonnet by friend Jeanell. And yes, it's political. She calls it her battle cry.


HE COULD have come at the head of a howling horde,
a mob of wrathful demons recruited to scour
the earth and ravage it with fire and sword
in a full-court press to prove his might and power.
HE COULD have loosed the rivers, burned the sky,
melted mountains, destroyed the face of the moon,
have swept the planet clean, to purify
it for a New Creation, coming soon.
INSTEAD, he came as a child, a helpless babe
born in a stranger’s stable on a death-cold night
with neither shield nor buckler nor armored plate
to defend himself in the battle he would fight
and win, as darkness always yields to light.
As God prevails, and wrong must yield to right!

Christmas, 2016
Copyright,  Jeanell Bolton

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Language Addiction


That's how you say "hello" in Egyptian Arabic, which adds yet another greeting to Fiorella's ever-growing repertoire.  She learned it from the golden-haired  clerk who checked her out in H-E-B a couple of days ago, then solidified it in her brain by repeating it to the woman yesterday when Fio realized she'd wound up in the same register line.

Where did Fio's fascination with languages come from? Maybe from the early exposure Fio has previously described--her great aunts and uncles teaching her a "soft Russian" phrase ("God, give health") to use when she sneezed, maybe from a Louisiana-born neighbor teaching her to say "I love you" in French, her mother teaching her how to count and recite the alphabet in German. Maybe from moving from Ohio to Texas and having to learn a whole new version of English. Maybe from her desire to communicate with everyone she meets, or from her own weird brain, which seems to be attracted to unraveling intricacies.

Whatever, Fiorella is hooked. The next time she goes through Goldie's line, she'll ask her how to  say "thank you."

Wednesday, November 30, 2016


The contest's over
I'm in the lead
What I have
Is all I need

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Christmas Present

I've written my Christmas sonnet! The premise came to me last week when I got stuck in my second traffic jam of the year. Once burned, twice shy, I was armed with pen and paper--no sense wasting time--and I jotted down ideas every time we came to a dead halt. I'd been afraid that I'd have a hard time coming up with a topic this year because, after all, this would be my what--twentieth?--Christmas poem, but the recent "election" made me think about what horrible pestilences God could loose upon a nation, and I realized I had not only a unique Christmas topic, but could also write a sonnet that fulfilled my vow to keep on fighting for what is right. I'll post the poem at the appropriate time. Meanwhile, stay strong..

Monday, November 28, 2016

Frrom Credit Card to Car to Christmas to Consciences

Fiorella went out to the garage to go through the cars one more time before she called her credit card carrier to beg for her second duplicate this year, and while she was at it, she decided to wash the remains of several foul birds' lunches off her baby car from when she had visited with friend Paula at Dan's Hamburgers earlier in the week. The hose was kinked and the fire ants swarmed her like she was Goliath attacking the Israelites, but she prevailed except for a spot or two on the roof that she hopes will wear off in the next rain. While she was in the garage area, she decide she might as well pull those bags of tinsel rope off the Christmas storage shelves so she could drape the the silvery stuff along the driveway. Of course, this required her to move several panels of wood and fiberboard, but, heck--Fio lifts weights.

Back to the credit card. It never turned up, although Fiorella found a utility bill  and a Christmas catalog in the trash pile on the passenger seat of her car. She wrote out a check for the bill, but damned the catalog to deepest hell. It was a Hammecher Schlammeker--you know the one aimed at people with too much money and too little social conscience.

But, back to the credit card again, Fio swallowed her pride and called her carrier for another new card. It's on its way now, during which time Fiorella is sure the old card will turn up. That's the way the old ball bounces.