A leading political turkey is Sarah Palin, who's heavy on criticism but light on solutions. Fine feathers do not a bald eagle make.
As for entertainment turkeys, let's take a formerly mated pair, Jon and Kate. They made lots of money off their kids, spent it on mansions, fancy cars, diamond rings and such, then split up. Expect to see them together again on your local street island holding up mismatching "God bless" signs.
For beauty turkeys, Carrie Prejean takes the prize. Of course, her breast has already been carved--and stuffed. Too bad her brain cavity was left empty.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Turkeys I Have Known
First of all, Fiorella has to list the Sunday School supervisor who wouldn't let Younger Son visit Older Son's class. It was six-year-old YS's first foray into Sunday church school and he wanted to be with his brother. I saw no harm in it as a one-time, getting-used-to-the-idea thing, but the supervisor saw it as Fio not "having control" of her children. Fio did somehow control her temper, but then packed up a very upset YB and his sister and headed home. "Suffer the little children" took on a different meaning that day.
Next, Fio lists her pet Geo, the purple plum, that let her down again and again. Yes, the cutest little hatchback in the world stopped dead on her in drive-through lanes, at red lights, in front of her parents' home 100 miles away, just wherever it chose. Finally Fio had to face facts: that turkey was a purple lemon.
Her final turkey is anonymous, and probably a flock. Fio does not appreciate whoever it was who bashed in her rural mailbox for the umpteenth time, this time cracking it open across the top. The final damage was done the night before her father's funeral, and Fio cried.
Next, Fio lists her pet Geo, the purple plum, that let her down again and again. Yes, the cutest little hatchback in the world stopped dead on her in drive-through lanes, at red lights, in front of her parents' home 100 miles away, just wherever it chose. Finally Fio had to face facts: that turkey was a purple lemon.
Her final turkey is anonymous, and probably a flock. Fio does not appreciate whoever it was who bashed in her rural mailbox for the umpteenth time, this time cracking it open across the top. The final damage was done the night before her father's funeral, and Fio cried.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Albert
During his brief year and a half with us, Albert the Guinea pig captured every corner of our hearts as we watched him grow from a tiny squeaking fluff ball to a rather majestic adult boar. We taught him to sit up and beg for food, to trumpet a loud warning when he needed off our laps, and to stop whatever he was doing and clear out of wherever he was when a powerful "No!" reverberated across the room.
But Albert fell ill one day and nothing we could do seemed to help. Finally Fiorella lined a wicken-woven baset with soft towels and took Albert to the vet. That gentleman seemed fascinated by his tiny patient and, divining Albert's obviously important position in our household, put his whole heart into his task, pumping his patient full of antibiotiocs and appetite stimulators.
Nonetheless, Albert died soon thereafter. However, he made his everlasting impression on it at least one part of the world. When we received the vet's bill, Fio noticed that under the title "breed of animal" the vet's receptionist had carefully printed A-L-B-E-R-T.
But Albert fell ill one day and nothing we could do seemed to help. Finally Fiorella lined a wicken-woven baset with soft towels and took Albert to the vet. That gentleman seemed fascinated by his tiny patient and, divining Albert's obviously important position in our household, put his whole heart into his task, pumping his patient full of antibiotiocs and appetite stimulators.
Nonetheless, Albert died soon thereafter. However, he made his everlasting impression on it at least one part of the world. When we received the vet's bill, Fio noticed that under the title "breed of animal" the vet's receptionist had carefully printed A-L-B-E-R-T.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
As Charged
Fio has an exaggerated sense of guilt, perhaps the natural consequence of being brought up Missouri Synod Lutheran.
For years she thought that when she was three years old, she had killed her great-grandmother by talking too much. And she has fretted for a decade about having signed the release for her father's brain operation, which didn't help much and may even have made matters worse. And now she wonders if the reason he finally died at age ninety-five was because she didn't visit him for almost two weeks--she had the flu.
And then there are the students she should have handled better, and her own children, all of whose problems she lays at her own feet.
Of course, all this guilt also implies a sense of power and control.
Yesterday, Husband couldn't find The Wall Street Journal when he came home from work. Fio realized that she must have thrown it away. In fact, the more she thought about it, she had a dim but growing memory of tossing it.
Today the newspaper carrier delivered two WSJs because he missed yesterday.
So much for power and control.
For years she thought that when she was three years old, she had killed her great-grandmother by talking too much. And she has fretted for a decade about having signed the release for her father's brain operation, which didn't help much and may even have made matters worse. And now she wonders if the reason he finally died at age ninety-five was because she didn't visit him for almost two weeks--she had the flu.
And then there are the students she should have handled better, and her own children, all of whose problems she lays at her own feet.
Of course, all this guilt also implies a sense of power and control.
Yesterday, Husband couldn't find The Wall Street Journal when he came home from work. Fio realized that she must have thrown it away. In fact, the more she thought about it, she had a dim but growing memory of tossing it.
Today the newspaper carrier delivered two WSJs because he missed yesterday.
So much for power and control.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Great American Desert
Is it Fio's imagination, or is Project Runway getting old? And is Little People, Big World growing whiskers? And is The Little Couple, though new, seeming all too predictable?
Fio watches little enough TV as it is, and she'd like to have a few programs to relax with aside from specials on Neanderthals, conjoined twins, and various strange medical maladies, all of which she loves, but which are endlessly repeated.
Oh well, there's always AztecAmerica, which she's been keeping on as background noise during her recent housekeeping frenzy in hopes she'll learn Spanish by osmosis.
Fio watches little enough TV as it is, and she'd like to have a few programs to relax with aside from specials on Neanderthals, conjoined twins, and various strange medical maladies, all of which she loves, but which are endlessly repeated.
Oh well, there's always AztecAmerica, which she's been keeping on as background noise during her recent housekeeping frenzy in hopes she'll learn Spanish by osmosis.
Friday, November 20, 2009
About the Author
How did Fiorella get into writing, you ask?
Well, contrary to those who penned novels in their cradles, Fio spent her time reading, reading, reading. She did try her hand at short stories occasionally, which, looking back, were pretty rank. And then there was the novel she started while she was in junior high. The first chapter (the only one ever written) contained a nude bathing scene surreptitiously observed by the hero--yes, Fio had read all he mother's book-of-the-month club selections and knew what was de rigueur for the genre. But apparently having a nude bathing scene on your daughter's desk was less acceptable than having one in your library. The chapter disappeared during one of Mother's periodic exorcisms of Fio's room. So much for fiction.
Fio wrote a lot of poetry, though. And she also was a crackerjack non-fiction writer. But she couldn't settle in to write a novel--too long, too much time. Besides, what she wanted to do was LIVE these wonderful fictional lives, not write them.
Finally it dawned on her that these wonderful fictional lives were wonderful only on paper. In real life, they would be extremely uncomfortable.
So now she writes wonderful fictional lives into novels, and lives every second of every character's life. The best of both worlds.
Well, contrary to those who penned novels in their cradles, Fio spent her time reading, reading, reading. She did try her hand at short stories occasionally, which, looking back, were pretty rank. And then there was the novel she started while she was in junior high. The first chapter (the only one ever written) contained a nude bathing scene surreptitiously observed by the hero--yes, Fio had read all he mother's book-of-the-month club selections and knew what was de rigueur for the genre. But apparently having a nude bathing scene on your daughter's desk was less acceptable than having one in your library. The chapter disappeared during one of Mother's periodic exorcisms of Fio's room. So much for fiction.
Fio wrote a lot of poetry, though. And she also was a crackerjack non-fiction writer. But she couldn't settle in to write a novel--too long, too much time. Besides, what she wanted to do was LIVE these wonderful fictional lives, not write them.
Finally it dawned on her that these wonderful fictional lives were wonderful only on paper. In real life, they would be extremely uncomfortable.
So now she writes wonderful fictional lives into novels, and lives every second of every character's life. The best of both worlds.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Homey on the Range
Fiorella's essential equipment pack would include fingernail scissors and a hair dryer. Not for cutting her fingernails or drying her hair, but for all the other million and one uses she puts them to.
*
After years of accumulating everything under the sun, Fio and Husband are now trying to de-cumulate. Of course, that doesn't include their ever-growing rock collection. Yes, their children will inherit an absolutely valueless assortment of flint, pretty stones, and interesting limestone shapes.
*
We're stacking the firewood and Husband is building fires in the fireplace again, to Fiorella's delight. She must have been a firebug in a past life.
*
After years of accumulating everything under the sun, Fio and Husband are now trying to de-cumulate. Of course, that doesn't include their ever-growing rock collection. Yes, their children will inherit an absolutely valueless assortment of flint, pretty stones, and interesting limestone shapes.
*
We're stacking the firewood and Husband is building fires in the fireplace again, to Fiorella's delight. She must have been a firebug in a past life.
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