Husband made a fire for Fiorella today, maybe our last fire till next winter. He deliberately used some of the more misshapen logs that she loves so much. They make odd, wonderful images in the fireplace and burn at weird angles. Just like, Fiorella, you might say. Just like Fiorella.
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Springtime approaches. The trees are budding out and Wendy Dog has been insisting on being let out on the porch lately to bask in the afternoon sun.
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Fiorella is not happy about the oncoming season. She was not born for sunny climes. There are untold centuries of ice and snow behind her pale, easily freckling skin. Not only does she freckle, but she burns--a prime target for skin cancer. The heat gets to her too. Fio wilts as the temperature reaches its afternoon zenith. Then, like a vampire, her energy level rises as the hot sun sets. Don't get her wrong--she likes the light, just not the heat.
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