Friday, April 28, 2017

Open Letter to My Son's Incubator

At one time, I lived in fear of you, the birth mother of my oldest child. I was afraid you would try to reclaim him, to tear my darling from me. Now I love you. I love you for giving me a beautiful baby who grew up to be a charming child, then an upstanding young man who is kind to children and animals, who is sensitive and strong, and who loves his wife, his parents, and his God.

Thank you.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Pruners, GPS, Girl Scouts

Fiorella is thinking of grabbing her pruners to take care of a couple of unwanted bushes in el parke and of a couple of springtime cedar branches that are grabbing for her hairevery time she passes by. She's also looking over areas to plant cast iron plants, which Brother and his wife have offered her. Maybe in place of the sages along the west side of the house, which appear to have developed rust.
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Did Fio tell you that Scott Williams, a friend of older son, is going to be fixing her Christmastime GPS so Fio can finally use it? Then she'll be able to head down the road to see Baby anytime she wants to.
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Hey, hey, hey--Fio finally figure out how to get the las botellas de pildoras de plastico (plastic pill bottles) to the Girl Scouts without having to drive to Round Rock. MAIL THEM!

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Mama June Is A Size Four And All Hollywood Marriages Are Happy

Fiorella spent a fair amount of time in her podiatrist's office yesterday, which meant she spent a fair amount of time perusing People Magazine. It's not her publication of choice, but it's usually the only one in doctors' waiting rooms that isn't oriented toward health care or sports.

Actually, Fio grew up reading magazines. She devoured Hollywood fan mags with friend Ellen at her house, and then, at home, read the magazines her mother subscribed to--Saturday Evening Post when it was still in business, Better Homes and Gardens, Ladies Home Journal, Good Housekeeping, and Family Circle. Then, after Fiorella married, she briefly subscribed to House Beautiful and occasionally bought Woman on the newstand.

But now Fiorella doesn't have time for magazines. She has a driveway to edge wth stones, a house to tend, books to write, and a world to save.


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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

All Hail Rocks!

Rocks are the basis of mankind's existence. Think about it--the caves our acestors lived in, the houses they built, the wells, the walls, the churches, the fortresses, the castles. Think of Plymouth Rock, of Petra, the city carved out of standing stone. Think of the old hymn "Rock of Ages," a religious analogy. We could not live without rocks.
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Your Fiorella is such a rock lover that she cannot pass by a decorative pile of them in front of a store or restaurant without giving it a critical look-over for interesting specimens she could grab, much to Husband's embarrasment.
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When Fio can figure out how to post a picture again, she'll show you the interesting rock she found in the load that vecina Kathy gave her for Easter. It has a glittering clam shell petrified into it.
























Monday, April 24, 2017

Fio Analyzes Shubert

Fiorella plays at the piano from time to time, and one of her favorite composers is Schubert--in a simplified Eckstein arrangement, of course. She identifies with Schubert's experimentation--his key modulations in "Unfinished Symphony" and his reversal of the trebel and bass assignments in "Moonlight Sonata," the two pieces she plays, because she too likes to experiment. She also likes the way both pieces have a dark feel, but end in an upsweep of major key happiness, like all romances should.

Music, writing, dance, art. To Fiorella, they are all the same thing.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Art for Animals' Sake

Husband and Fio watched a TV show in which a rock formation, possibly set up by ancient peoples, was discovered under the deep waters of Lake Michigan. On closer examination, one of the big rocks had a mastodon carved into it. Fiorella's artist persona marveled at the graceful glide of the lines and the true perspective, at the realization once again that recording reality is part of the human genome.

One question she has, though. All the early art she's seen has been depictions of animals. Why didn't the resident artists draw pictures of their cave-mates? A portrait or two would have been of immeasurable value to archeologists, geneticists, and whatever branch of science it is that studies ancient cultures.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Post-Easter Post

Fiorella is just about back together again after the Easter parade. She was overjoyed to have the family over, and especially happy to have Minnesota son and his wife visiting. There's always a lot to catch up on with the Minnesota duo, and Son is usually kind enough to fix things in the house while Daughter-in-Law and Fio are rampaging around town on errands and having an uproarious time of it.

The special guest, of course, was Baby, whom her parents were generous enough to let us all take in our arms and coo at. Daughter was there too, and she was quick to claim her Auntie rights.

But now the guests have departed, the Easter baskets are packed away, and the leftover chocolates have met their destiny so Fio has to settle into real life again. That means catching up on her lista amarilla, her espanol, the spring planting, and, yes, Phillipa. She's promised herself to review forty pages tomorrow.

(Sorry, Fio accidentally ran this post a day early.)