Happy Days!

Fiorella's world has turned rosy again.  Her offspring are safely home from Hong Kong, Husband has been warming the house with firewood from their copious home-grown supply, and she herself woke up feeling G-R-R-R-E--AT!  Now, off to conquer the world.

Yes, Fio is mailing five copies of WHERE THE HEART LEADS off to national Romance Writers of America today, the final step in entering the the yearly contest for published authors.  Let's face it--Fio doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell, but she's thrilled to be a contestant.  But maybe in the future . . . .

Home Depot Has a Disgruntled Customer

Fiorella is not happy with Home Depot.  First, their reference arm, Red Beacon, gave her the name of the scamming handyman.  Next, when she called to report the problem, Red Beacon told her the hnadyman was not on their list.  Next, when she reported the situation in person to the store, their personnel got in contact with RB and Fio was asked to send photos of the work and the checks, which, with a great deal of computer trouble, Fio did.  And, while Fio's den remains a mess and she has stuff that should go on the new shelves still stashed all over the house, she's heard nothing since.

Christmas is coming.  Fio is thinking of putting coal in Home Depot's stocking.

Aaron and Vienna

Fio's Austin offspring were not at Brother Bill's birthday/Thanksgiving celebration, and here's the reason why: THEY WERE ATTENDING NEPHEW AARON'S WEDDING IN HONG KONG! The bride is the lovely Vienna Wong.  Fio and Husband met Vienna's parents and sister at Christmas a couple of years ago, as you may remember.

Aaron is the last man standing of the cousins, the last to get married, and Fio wishes all the best for him and Vienna.

Thanksgiving Leftovers

Fio's books arrived yesterday morning, the ones she'd bought from her publisher at her author's discount price. Two boxes were perched like orphans on top of the garbage bin next to the street, and Fio threw them into the trunk as she and Husband left to drive off to her brother's for the family Thanksgiving feast. The first thing she did when they arrived in Austin was to open both boxes to see if the rain had damaged any of the books, which it hadn't.  Then she autographed a book as a gift to her brother and his wife.

Later that evening, when Fio and Husband were home, Husband claimed a book for himself, asked Fio to autograph it, and started reading--and kept on reading, which was a joy to Fiorella.

Two books down, twenty-eight to go.

Thanksgiving 2015

Fiorella has been having a series of dreams in which she's revisited and reviewed every bad decision she's made in her life and every thing dumb thing she's said or done in her life, so today Fio thanks God for tomorrow.

Competition

Strangely enough, although Fiorella is a very competitive person, she cannot bear to watch competitive shows on TV or participate in NaNoRiMO, which is a yearly competition in which romance writers egg each other on to write an overflow of words.  Regarding the TV shows, Fio identifies with each contestant and does not like to see anyone lose, and, regarding NaNoRiMo, Fio's competition is not with other writers.  It's with herself as she molds each sentence so it will say exactly what she wants it to. Or so she hopes.

Late Night Considerations

When you think about it, mammalian reproduction is downright weird.  It would be much simpler to be  starfish.
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That opposable thumb--it comes in handy (pun intended).
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How sad--the Duggars brought their children up to be media whores.

BOLO for Missing Tablet

The world must be coming to an end because Fiorella can't find her list, the list she lives by, the list that tells her what to do each day, the list that remind her of commitments, the list that contains her brilliant ideas.  She first missed it on Sunday morning, but she was pretty much couch-bound on Saturday so it isn't as if she left it in an HEB shopping cart or on the Walgreen's counter.  It has to be in the house, but she's checked everywhere imaginable--upstairs, downstairs, on and under every surface, even the trash bags (yuck).  So please, if you spot a small yellow legal tablet full of interestimg stuff, please contact Fio ASAP.

Still Sick

Fio's still sick
And has nothing to say
But please stay well
And have a great day

Fio's Health Update

The wind is blowing, the fire is glowing, and Fio is getting better at last.  Those strange little pills that can somehow seek out just the right ligament in her jaw and and make it work right are having a positive effect bit by bit (pun intended), and the antibiotics she's taking to clear out her upper respiratory system are allowing her breath again.  Now let's hope the raw throat recovers enough that she can eat more than chicken rice soup, chocolate pudding, and vanilla ice cream.

Whoopie!

Friend Jeanell's new book is riding high, wide, and handsome! Yes, Where the Heart Leads is selling, selling, selling, and sales of What the Heart Wants have jumped up also!  Fiorella is happy because  now the messages of both stories are reaching more people. Remember,  Jeanell's purpose is to not just entertain, but to uplift.  She's out to save the world, one sex scene at a time.


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Grammar Post

Me, us, you, him, her, them.  Let me introduce you, my children, to the objective case as in

(1) The direct object
      Mary saw me.
      Mary saw us.
     ( Mary saw you.)
      Mary saw him.
      Mary saw her.
      Mary saw them.

(2) The indirect object
      John gave me the money.
      John gave us the money
      (John gave you the money.)
      John gave him the money.
      John gave her the money.
      John gave them the money.

(3) The object of the preposition
      Susan looked at me.
      Susan looked at us.
      (Susan looked at you.)
      Susan looked at him.
      Susan looked at her.
      Susan looked at them.

(4) The subject of the infinitive
      Mike asked me to read.
      Mike asked us to read.
      (Mike asked you to read.)
      Mike asked him to read.
      Mike asked her to read.
      Mike asked them to read.

And please, people--multiples act the same way.
      Brittany saw me, us, (you), him, her, and them.
      Brittany sent the letter to me, us, (you), him, her, and them.
      Brittany liked me, us, (you), him, her, and them.
      Brittany wanted me, us, (you), him, her and them to stay around.
   

Late, Late, Late!

Yes, Fio knows she's posting late, but she has an excuse from her doctor.  Remember that infection her older son brought with him when he visited a couple of weeks ago? The one that moved on to Husband last week?  Well, now it's got Fio in its clutches.  Throat like fire,  mental fuzziness, tiredness, stuffy nose, the works.

To make a long story short, Fiorella is a mess.

LAUNCH DAY!

Moira Farrar has survived the worst Hollywood had to offer, and now she's come to

 Bosque Bend to make a fresh start as the director of the local civic theater guild.  Rancher Rafe McAllister, the chairman of the board, has a more personal interest in her, but will he feel 

the same way when he learns what she left behind?

Sniff, Snort, Cough

My nose, my nose--
It glows, red as a rose--
It flows, like a garden hose--
And it blows blows, blows, blows, blows blows, blows,

Truth to tell, I am not well.
As a matter of fact,
I feel like hell.

I Will Produce

Fiorella has been thinking about all the people killed by the terrorist bombings in France, people who were young and vibrant and full of promise.  Then she started thinking about people killed in auto accidents in this country. And the ones killed by random attacks by thugs.  And the ones who have died from sickness or disease.

Yet Fio is still alive.

Thank you, God, for my life,  I will strive to make good use of every second of it.

Electronic Addiction

Fio would like to think that, in the future, people will not have to be so tied to their computers, so dependent on them.  If Fio wants to know what the weather is going to be like tomorrow, she consults the computer.  If she needs to know a  phone number, she looks it up on the computer.    She blogs on the computer.  She sends messages to friends and family by the computer. When she writes her books, she uses on the computer. If she needs background on anything at all, she looks it up on the computer.

In short, she spends more time with her computer than she does with her husband.

Commitment

Fiorella has always lived in the world of What If, mostly negative, but she plots her course and charges ahead anyway.  She's made bad decisions and good decisions, and she's thrown herself into both whole-heartedly--there's no turning back.  Yep, if you want commitment, Fio is the girl for you.

Mosquitoes--3; Fiorella--1

Three or four deer were standing by the side of the road as Fio drove home this evening--and those were just the ones she could see.  It was like they were hitching a ride.
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Despite the spray, the mosquitoes are out in full force again.   And, unfortunately, Fiorella is their kind of gal.
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Don't hold your breath, but Fiorella may get some recompense for the crappy job ol' Jason did.  She's talking to Home Depot about it.  Next time she needs something done, she'll work up a contract.
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And, at the same time that Fio was writing this blog, she (1) was bitten by another mosquito, (2) she squashed the beast in mid-air, and (3) she accidentally let a replacement mosquito in the house when she opened the door for Sonia Dog.



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Family Solidarity

Is it Wednesday already?  Fiorella spent most of Tuesday in the hospital with Husband, who was kept overnight for observation.  The whole family is rallying around, and Daughter will be taking over today, while Fiorella attends two important meetings in Austin. Meanwhile, Sonia Dog guards the hearth.

Balance

Is it Tuesday already?

Fio's been far too busy, as usual.  Husband is sickish and the new-shelves-in-the-den debacle has not yet been settled.

The good news is that  Minnesota Son rewired all the electronics in the den and helped his father find a replacement recliner, that Fio's finally broken through the mid-story block that's had her writing and rewriting WHEN THE HEART SPEAKS for a month, that, at her request, Husband hid the remainder of the Halloween candy where she could never find it (she looked), and that the weather has turned, which means that Fio has to pull on  a jacket when she goes outside to haul in fallen tree limbs, chainsaw cedar, lay flagstones, or walk up to the road to get the mail.

All in all, it balances out

Fire!

A fire is burning brightly in the fireplace, thanks to Husband's diligence, and Fiorella just hauled in another yet dead tree to chainsaw into fuel--as if the area across the driveway isn't already stacked solid.  But Fio wants to make sure no fire is left unfed.  Fire is a sacred sign, like the licks of flames that appeared on the tops of the apostles' heads at Pentecost. It is both benign and hostile and signifies the beginning and end of the world. Long may it burn in Fiorella's fireplace.

Ups and Downs

Husband built a fire in the fireplace, but it fizzled.  Visiting Son, who was feeling good and getting a lot done, came down with bronchitis.  The handyman debacle is still hanging fire.  On the other hand, WHAT THE HEART WANTS sold six more books last week.  Maybe there's hope for the world after all.

Of Fio's Baby Car, Fire in the Fireplace, and Mosquitoes

It's official.  Fio's thirteen-year-old  baby car, her beloved  navy blue Mazda Miata, is falling to pieces.  The window control broke inside the door panel and the dealership is repairing it for her, but advised against putting out the $$$ for replacing the front end panel. It's a quality of life decision, one might say.
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Fiorella is still running around in shorts, which means there's still no fire in the fireplace.  Let's hope all the firewood stacked across the driveway doesn't rot in place.
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Mosquitoes.  Fiorella is beloved by them.  Not a day goes by that she doesn't have a fresh bite.  The first freeze can't come early enough for her.

Weighing It All

Nothing beats laughter and random kindness to pull Fio out of a depression.  She had a great time at Mazda yesterday while she was picking up her baby car--Jason and Richard are lots of fun--and then, when she stopped by H-E-B to pick up a few things for supper, an employee who was outside gathering baskets noticed she was looking for a small one and ran across the roadway to fetch one for her.  And inside the store, she was able to snag a bigger package of hamburger (for Husband, Son, and Fio) than the butcher usually cuts, and a checker invited her to a new line she was opening up.

Fate balances out.

GRAPHIC!

Friend Jeanell's graphic for WHERE THE HEART LEADS just arrived!

Tipping

Fiorella's standard restaurant tip is twenty percent, but she has been known to give a five dollar tip on a four-dollar dessert or a nine dollar meal--if the service was outstanding.  Yesterday evening's service wasn't.  The waitress brought Husband's and Minnesota Son's food to the table, then realized Fiorella's order had been filled incorrectly and took it back to the kitchen.  After she left, we noticed that one of the side orders had been left off both Son's plate and Husband's plate.  Then, when Fio finally got her plate, the salmon, although quite good, was barely warm.  Also, the waitress did not bring lemon slices.

In fact, the situation was such a mess that a manager came out, blamed the problem on the kitchen, and gave us key lime pies on the house.

But Fio doesn't think the kitchen had anything to do with the foul-up.  She thinks management was covering for the waitress so Fio wouldn't dock her tip.

But Fio did, to just below ten percent.  And that was generous.

Motivational Speakers

Fio is an odd duck, as you may have realized, but she doesn't respond to motivational speakers, at least not the way she's supposed to.  Maybe it's because she resists following the crowd. Maybe it's because she has a fair amount of charisma herself, but she's suspicious of the speakers' motives.  Like the pastors of certain mega-churches, they usually preach that all things are possible if one just follows the path they outline, which always seems to involves a hefty financial investment.  And if the promises don't work out, it's because you didn't believe enough--or give enough money.

Buyer, beware--the emperor has no clothes

Vote!

Fio is fascinated by the political arena.  It's like Donald Trump was the stalking horse for Ted Cruz, who has wisely kept his mouth off Trump during debates--he knows it's ill-advised to sink to the level of an obstreperous. child.  In fact, Trump's outrageousness has made Cruz look downright--well--statesmanlike.

Whatever.  This too shall pass, and there's not much Fio can do about it but vote.

A Woman Worth Knowing

I know a woman, a good woman, a woman who is a natural leader. Who has been through fire and come out steel. Who is talented and sensitive and kind.  Who is beautiful inside and out. Who has just moved up to a very demanding job, a job requiring the best from her at all times. A woman who is up to the challenge.  

And I am proud to call this woman "Daughter."

Why Write?

You've probably figured it out--Fio is a compulsive writer.  Whether poetry or prose, it flows right out of her (poetry or prose/out of her it flows), Why?  Sure, she read, read, read from childhood on, but a lot of people read, read, read, but never write, write, write.  So why does Fio have file cabinets stuffed with story ideas, clever lines, and golden words?  Why has she produced essays, reviews, articles, songs, sonnets, novels?  Why does she write a daily blog?

The only answer Fio can come up with is that somewhere along the way, a computer key in her brain got held down way too long..