Saturday, December 31, 2016

Easy to Spot

Who is this Fiorella Plum, you ask? She's the one who smiles and nods at everyone she sees. Who does physical therapy exercises while waiting at a red light or in the post office line. Who sits in her car in the parking lot and jots down notes for a novel on the back of her supermarket register slips. Who pulls wagons of rocks up from the creek to line the driveway. Who always has a project in the works. WHO CANNOT KEEP STILL AND NEVER WILL

And that's her New Year's resolution.



Friday, December 30, 2016

Declaration of War

Fiorella is late today
Not that she has naught to say
Rather that she has far too much
About the state of the world and such--
She wants to rouse the countryside
She wants to echo the world wide
In seeming contradiction, to fight
For love and peace and what is right

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Always Busy

When Fio was a child, she had dreams of seeing the world, just like all the TV and movies heroines, but once she got around to it--the family visited England when her kids were teenagers--she realized that she wasn't really interested in seeing the sights. Tower Bridge didn't interest her, castles bored her, the crown jewels looked crass. What she really wanted to do was drive down residential streets, check out Safeway, and connect with the everyone she saw, human to human. And if Fio ever visited a country that didn't speak English, you can bet she'd be doing her best to learn the new language while she was there.

Yep, your Fiorella is an odd duck. She's not content to look. She has to do.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Into the Past

Fiorella and Husband gave each other Ancestry.com for Christmas, which should be interesting. They did the National Geographic thing about twenty years ago, when genealogy could only be determined to about ten thousand years back so now they're looking forward to learning about more recent developments. Not that any of it matters.  We all are what we are--not our parents, not our grandparents, not our distant ancestors. Which, keeping evolution in mind, is rather a good thing.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

What Would Jesus Do?

Donald Trump has not only legitimatized hate, but he has endorsed it. The hate of blacks, browns, Asians, women, the handicapped, anyone with a different opinion than his. At the same time, he has made it acceptable to lie, insult, defame, belittle, and attack. To be a liar, a lecher, a voyeur, ignorant, and vengeful.

Merry Christmas. Sounds like Jesus needs to throw the money-lenders out of the temple again.

Monday, December 26, 2016

Near Miss

Hey there you, the young stag who ambled across in front of my car as I was busting down the road--didn't your mother ever teach you to look left-right-left before crossing a street? And you came out of the twilight too.  These teenagers!

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Armed for Christmas

WARNING: This is not Fiorella's usual joyful Christmas message because she is deeply concerned about the state of the world, her country, and her family. Her children are going through perilous passages in their lives, her country has turned itself over to an out-and-out crook, and her world is being rampaged by madmen who use religion as an excuse to kill and destroy. Ignorance is celebrated. Corruption is the name of the game. Hate and anger ride the air waves.

Where are laughter and fellowship? Where are goodness, mercy, honesty, and compassion? Where is love? Fio can only pray that God will prevail, and she hopes you will also.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

The Grinch Has Stolen Christmas 2016

Fiorella would rather be feeling all Christmasy and nostalgic, but she isn't, and it's not because the weather here in central Texas is running in the balmy 70's. It's because, despite herself, she's been keeping up with the news, and it's not good. Apparently Trump wants to play with that little red button Hillary warned us about. Ever since Hiroshima, previous presidents have, for the most part, striven for peace, to ease world tensions, to take the leadership in helping countries avoid going to war with each other with the idea that it's not going to help any of us if we're all pot-shotting each other with nuclear weapons.

But Trump, true to form, is planing to sow discord among nations, as if the world is a giant Apprentice sound stage, and Fiorella fears for her herself, her children, her country and the world.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Progress on the Christmas Prep Front

Fiorella is, as she predicted almost through with decorating. Last night she packed away all the left-overs except the new tinsel she bought to take the place of the garlands along the road that the storm had beaten to a pulp. She'll make those repairs and replacements today, add more decorations to the outside tree, and to pick up some butterflies at Hobby Lobby to finish off an inside wreath. Definitely, she'll be through by tomorrow evening, and that's the best time she's ever made. And if you're wondering, everything stays up for a couple of months to make up for all the intensive labor.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Seeking Gaye Larson

Good morning! Fio tried to send a copy of her Christmas card to you, but apparently she still hasn't gotten the hang of how too do it.  Speaking of technology, Fio has recently become aware of how much technology, which was supposed to bring us all together, has actually driven us apart.  What she is saying is that because we all have cell phones, we can't reach anyone whose number we don't already have. To be more specific, Fiorella can't call the woman who found her card case because she can't get her cell phone number. She was able to trace down an address and left a note on the door, but it turns out the woman--Gaye Larson, if you know her--had recently moved.  Soooooo...it looks like after Christmas, Fio will be knocking in doors in Gaye's old neighborhood to try to get a lead on her current whereabouts.

Detective work always looked a lot easier on TV.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Christmas Is Coming

The gypsies have parked their porta-potty and RVs at the back of the fireworks lot, loaded the shelves of the sales stand, and turned on the string of lights across the entrance off the road. Yep, it's Christmastime in Texas.
***
Fio  drove into Austin today to visit with friend Paula and brother Bill at Dan's Hamburgers. She almost missed her turn off I-35. but her baby car made it automatically. Yes, the car knows the way/To pull the sleigh/ Through bright and drifting snow-o.
***
What is it with the balmy weather and summer skies? Fio had to turn on the car air conditioning on the way back from FedEx Kinkos. Is this any way to celebrate Chrstmas?
***
It looks like Fio will have the house fully decorated by Friday...or Saturday.  Whatever, it's moving. Now to leap in the car again and drive in to FedEx for more cards and envelopes. She'll try to put the cover of her card on the blog for you--it's her sonnet, but decorated, and she's sending it out to the world.
***

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Miracle Needed, Please

Count-down to Christmas, which means Fiorella hasn't worked on her Spanish for a week (una semana) written a word on the book (el libro) for two days, and didn't lift a single rock (una roca) today. What she did do was finish off her card and take it to FedEx Kinkos for printing, run around to several stores to buy up the last of the tinsel in town, and populate the fake greenery swag over the dining room (el comidor) window (la ventana) with small birds made of feathers and ornaments that look like fruits and vegetables. She's hoping to have all her Christmas preparations finished on Wednesday, Thursday at the latest, but we'll see.

Meanwhile, send healing thoughts to Fio. She's been crying again--the Electoral College thing. She didn't expect anything, but had prayed for a miracle. Maybe, maybe, maybe, there still is one in the offing. It's that time of year.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Ring

Fio has to report this, but she feels strange about it. As you know, she went hysterical for about two hours after she lost her card case.  Later, after she'd exhausted herself, she began trudging around the house, putting up holiday decorations, but her heart wasn't in it.  About an hour in, she started talking to God, begging to get her card case back, begging for mercy.

She'd deployed the contents of most of the bags and boxes when she came across a cheap little woven basket with  a pine cone and fake mistletoe in it so she added tinsel to it and walked it into the guest room to put on the dresser.  As she left the room, she noticed a small circle on the floor. IT WAS HER WEDDING RING, THE ONE SHE'D LOST TWO MONTHS AGO!  Apparently it had bounced to the floor, swooped around the corner and down the hall, then skidded under the guest room door.

As Fio said, she feels strange reporting in. Maybe she shouldn't have. Maybe this was supposed to be personal between her and God. Maybe finding the ring was God's way of saying that all will be well. Conjecturing further, maybe God wanted a family that wasn't going to have much of a Christmas to pick up the card case and buy their children gifts with it. After all, Fio can get her cards replaced (again).

But she will truly miss her card case.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Fiorella Wants Her Card Case Back!

Fiorella is very upset, screaming upset, crying upset, cursing upset, throwing things upset, questioning God upset. Her card case, the one she got at the New York RWA conference in 2015, the one that has her two credit cards in it as well as her business cards, is gone, gone, gone. She and Husband had bought a few groceries at H-E-B yesterday evening, and apparently when they took them to the car, she put her precious card case in the tray of the small cart they had used, then did not retrieve the case when she parked the cart back at the store. She realized what had happened fifteen minutes later and drove back to the store, but no one had turned in her card case. She is now offering a $100 reward for its return.

Why is this happening to Fiorella? She is a good person, a nice person, someone who works hard, who gives and gives an gives, who pushes herself to do better every day in every way, a person who prays for others, who tries to help others, who puts up with a lot of crap, who has the patience of Job. But every now and then she cracks, and this is one of those times.

And she asks again--why, God?  Doesn't Fio have enough on her back right now?

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Fiorella Loves Languages

Fio is feeling prognosticative. The two languages she wanted most to study during her undergrad years were Russian and Mandarin. Who would have guessed they'd be the two languages of most importance to world relations right now? (Fio confesses that the only reason she was drawn to them back then was that they were exotic and different.)
*
Unfortunately, Fio never had the chance to learn Mandarin. Despite being Phi Beta Kappa material, she couldn't get a scholarship because she was a woman, a married woman at that, and "would probably get pregnant and drop out," which meant that she had to work full-time her last two undergrad years, which meant she couldn't attend the intensive Mandarin class the required five days a week.
*
Fiorella's Spanish program has slowed down during the holidays, although she did throw out gracias a few times to the tech in her eye doctor's office yesterday. When the tech replied with de nada, Fio asked her if she spoke Spanish, and they exchanged a few phrases, which FIO ACTUALLY UNDERSTOOD! Feliz Navidad!

Friday, December 16, 2016

Ah, Chocolate

Good morning!  Fiorella slept late and almost didn't make it out to the trash pick-up at the head of the driveway. Not to put the trash out--she and Husband had wheeled six bags out yesterday evening--but to top the large vinyl can with her yearly gift to those knights in soiled uniforms who dispose of what she does not wish to deal with.

Fiorella goes wacko at Christmastime. If she could, she'd gift the world, and she does always pray for its welfare, but more specifically, she likes to give chocolate. Thus she delivers holiday bags of chocolate kisses not only to the trash pick-up stalwarts, but also to the guys at Click Computer Repair, which has been her safety net and rescuer for many years, and to her peops at Georgetown Mazda, who have played the same role in regard to her baby car.

For herself, Fio brings way too much chocolate home at this time of year.  She stocks up on Russell Stover chocolate bars because they're available only during the holiday season, can't resist chocolate in the shape of coins (especially the ones that are about nine inches across), and has a weakness for chocolate Santas. To top it off, she and Husband always make chocolate fudge for themselves to celebrate the season. Oh, and her role in the Christmas dinner is to make a big bowl of chocolate pudding for dessert.

Ah, chocolate. The world would be in so much better shape if everyone could grow a patch of chocolate, complete with golden wrappers, in his own back yard.


Thursday, December 15, 2016

Perceived Value

Fiorella's Christmas tree ornaments are precious to her. Not that they're worth a lot of money--the most she's ever paid is $12 for a nine-inch long yellow school bus--but because they are fragile. She loses one or two of them every Christmas, and, because styles in ornaments change yearly, replacements are impossible. Thus the Virgin and an angel are the only two she has left out of a charming nativity set she bought fifteen years ago, but, on the other hand, she picked up a dump truck, a food stand, two choo-choos, two fire engines, and two aviones (airplanes) last week and has hung them from the artificial greenery swag above her mostrador de madera (wooden counter), an interesting trade that might have something to do with what is happening in the country today.


Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Poetry That Talks


This one of my favorite poems. I love the way Anthony Hecht uses everyday words and a set rhythm and rhyme scheme to express so chilling a topic. Hecht wrote this poem in reference to Nazi Germany, but for me, it also pertains to the fear, vulnerability, and helplessness so many of us in the United States are feeling since the "election."


It Out-Herods Herod. Pray You, Avoid It.

Tonight my children hunch 
Toward their Western, and are glad   
As, with a Sunday punch, 
The Good casts out the Bad. 

And in their fairy tales 
The warty giant and witch 
Get sealed in doorless jails 
And the match-girl strikes it rich. 

I’ve made myself a drink. 
The giant and witch are set 
To bust out of the clink 
When my children have gone to bed. 

All frequencies are loud 
With signals of despair; 
In flash and morse they crowd   
The rondure of the air. 

For the wicked have grown strong,   
Their numbers mock at death,   
Their cow brings forth its young,   
Their bull engendereth. 

Their very fund of strength,   
Satan, bestrides the globe; 
He stalks its breadth and length   
And finds out even Job. 

Yet by quite other laws 
My children make their case;   
Half God, half Santa Claus,   
But with my voice and face, 

A hero comes to save 
The poorman, beggarman, thief,   
And make the world behave   
And put an end to grief. 

And that their sleep be sound   
I say this childermas 
Who could not, at one time,   
Have saved them from the gas.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Christmas Thanksgiving

Merry Christmas to Fernando, who has done our heavy yard work for the past two years. Yesterday he not only neatened up our stacks of firewood, but pulled fallen tree limbs out of the dry creek area and chainsawed them to add to the pile. He also whooshed our front porch, back porch, and the entire length of our driveway free of leaves, plus pulled a couple of loads of rocks up from the creek to place alongside the driveway. All in all, it was about four hours work, which was twice as much as Fio pays him for. Oh, and as Fio helps him learn English, Fernando has been helping her learn Spanish. Muchas gracias, mi amigo.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Politicians Don't give a Damn about Real People

Actually, there is someone Fiorella hates, and he's dead--Ronald Reagan.

Fio started out liking Ronnie because he seemed to be, well, a likable kind of guy, so when Son, a devotee of TV news, asked her to mail a letter to him (Son was against something or other), she thought it would be a good civics lesson. To play it safe, she added the information to the bottom of the crayoned letter that Son was seven years old.

Fio, being naive, assumed all letters to the President were answered in some way or another, if just by a mimeographed "thank you for writing" so she watched out the window with interest as day after day, Son ran out to the mailbox for Reagan's reply.

But it never came.

And Fiorella's heart broke for Son's loss of innocence and her own..




Sunday, December 11, 2016

Holiday Preparation Reformation

Fiorella is planning to do something strange and wonderful this holiday season--finish Christmas decorations by the 17th. Usually she's hanging ornaments, flinging around tinsel, and pasting together paper chains till Husband finally pulls her off the ladder at midnight of the 24th, but this year, because she saved last year's snowflakes (for the windows), she doesn't have to spend a couple of days cutting them out, plus...she has a secret weapon. Actually it's four secret weapons. Austin son and his wife came over last Saturday and decorated the tree for her (THANK YOU!), and nephew Barrett and his wife are coming over today to help get the wreaths and swags up (BLESS THEM!)

Fio will still have enough to do to keep her busy because she'll be the one decorating the wreaths and swags, and she's also the one who sets up displays on every surface in the house. But what about Christmas dinner, you ask?  Well, Fio's only contributions are boiled potatoes and chocolate pudding. Husband takes care of the rest (THANK GOODNESS!).





Saturday, December 10, 2016

Fiorella's Rock Tree

Some people have an apple tree, some have a peach tree, and some have a cherry tree. Fiorella has a rock tree. That's right--it grows rocks (rocas).  The tree, maybe sixty inches around, is located on the other side of Fio's dry creek, and the ground under its canopy is solid with rocks, a few of them too heavy for Fio to lift, but most of them a good size for carting up the slope to line the driveway (estacionamiento).

Why does Fiorella think the tree gave birth to the rocks, you ask? Because they pave the area under the tree in a circle, which obviously means that when the baby stones ripened and got too heavy for the tree limbs to support, they dropped off onto the ground below.

The apple never falls far from the tree.


Friday, December 9, 2016

Eskimo Energy

Fiorella must have Eskimo genes somewhere along the line because she loves cold weather. It was 36 degrees outside yesterday afternoon when she put on her jacket and wound her way through the south woods down to the semi-dry creek to pull rocks (rocas) out from around a tree which she and Husband call, appropriately enough, the rock tree. She loaded the rocks into the garden cart, pulled it several yards uphill, and laid the rocks alongside the driveway (estacionamiento) to prevent washouts. Then she took the cart back down to the creek again and started pulling out more rocks, hurling them up toward the cart for this afternoon's pick up.

Reviewing the day, Fio is thinking (1) that she must have been a laborer in her past life because she LOVES tossing rocks, and (2) that if it were summer, there is no way in the world she could have been dragged out of the house.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Politics and God

As, one by one, Trump's choices for governmental positions are announced, Fiorella prays all the harder that either the recounts or the Electoral College will propel Hillary into the Presidency. What a wonderful Christmas present that would be to America.

But how in the world did Trump get this far? How did a blustering bully propel himself into being a legitimate candidate? What role did Russia play in the show? Where did the fake news stories come from? And most important, where is God?




Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Cliche Heaven

A leopard can't change his spots. Trump, true to form, is playing his presumptive President-elect role like an episode of his TV show, making deals which he may never be able to fulfill in return for thunderous applause from his fans in the pits. For these fans, it's a cliche of bread and circuses when his victory tour hits town. But as for those who disagree with him, especially another TV show, they're out, as fired as he can make them because it's his way or the highway. Unfortunately for America, his way is the low way.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Precious LittleTime

Shock--Fio forget to post today, which is understandable with the schedule she's trying to keep. She raced out of the house this morning to meet with a friend at Starbucks--the same friend she stood up the day before because Fio was waiting at the wrong Starbucks--only to wait again because this time she was 24 hours too early. What else to do but drive off to the post office to buy Christmas stamps. The machine didn't carry them so she had to join the tail end of a l-o-n-g line. Bored to tears after finishing off all her physical therapy exercises as she waited (neck, shoulders, plies), she started talking to the people standing behind her.

The line refused to move, but Fiorella overheard a post office lady (who was moving up and down the line with a whip to keep the lions in check) tell someone that H-E-B sold Christmas stamps so Fio said good-bye to her new friends and sped on up to H-E-B, only to stand in a new line, this time at a register. Fio asked for nativity stamps, but the clerk said she only had Santa stamps, but that every register had a different stamp. Now your Fio was not about to spend her precious time standing in line at twenty registers to find out which one of them carried a stamp appropriate to her Christmas card so she walked over to the service desk and--voila!--the clerk had an acceptable batch of stamps on hand. Fio bought 100, which should put the national treasury back in good shape, then zoomed down to Hobby Lobby to buy more red ribbon for decking the halls, then drove home via Walgreens, where she picked up pildoras (pills) and a few Christmas treats.

The whole journey, Fio smiled a lot, talked to everyone, and even exchanged cards with a few other artist types. Yes, Fiorella on the roll is a sight to behold--and perhaps beware of. She is not the person her mother wanted her to be, but  Mother is long dead, and although  Fio feels her maternal love more and more every day, her strictures have faded away. Fio is Fio, and she will continue to devote every minute of her time to saving the world.

Monday, December 5, 2016

Finger Practice

While Austin son and his wife were at the house decorating the tree, Fiorella started thinking about "O Christmas Tree" and "Deck the Hall" so of course she pulled out the carols book and headed toward the piano. She hadn't played any of the carols for a year, but now was the time to start practicing. Surprisingly, her fingers half-remembered the notes, and she even sang a little. This is going to be a good Christmas,

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.

INSTEAD

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

Kifallah! 

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, another neighbor teaching her hose to count to ten in Spanish, 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

Content

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.


Sunday, November 27, 2016

Memo to Google News

Dear Google News: Fio wants to make it clear that she has no interest in Jennifer Aniston's uterus or whatever is going on with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie or anything having to do with the Kardashians or the latest scheme the Duggars have cooked up to sustain their faltering brand. Nor is Fiorella interested in political speculation--once burned, twice shy. What she wants to read is news, real news, not fake news, what is actually happening in this country and around the world, with a few uplifting side stories thrown in.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

What's Happenin'

Fio found Husband's wallet and hearing aids, which have been missing since he came home from the hospital. Now to find her credit card and wedding ring, which disappeared within the last few days. She had to use cash in Target and her checkbook in H-E-B. Talk about back to the Dark Ages.
*
Time to haul out the Christmas decorations. Not only Austin son and his wife, but nephew Barrett and his wife have volunteered to help Fio decorate this year. And Minnesota son and his wife will be coming down from winter wonderland to join us for the big holiday dinner.
*
Stand in line--Fiorella is giving away her treasures piece by piece. She wants to simplify her life.    

Friday, November 25, 2016

Co-mingling

Bon jour, mia bella! Como esta usted sevodna? Neenu teluguloo maaTlaaDagalaru. Koennen Sie diese Sprache sprechen? Zdai chen!

Ave atque vale,
Fio, who's messing with you


Thursday, November 24, 2016

Happy Thanksgiving, 2016

FIORELLA IS THANKFUL that she pulled through her sorrow about the election and has become a stronger, more determined person because of it. She even survived a second traffic jam on I-35 yesterday, partially because she'd thought about her over-the-top fury on Wednesday and realized it wasn't just a reaction to boredom, time being wasted, and anxiety about missing her appointment. It was because she is claustrophobic and felt trapped, and when Fio feels trapped, she fights back.

On Wednesday, she fought back by making noise--screaming, honking her horn, beating on the steering wheel, none of which worked, obviously. But now Fio feels trapped by the political situation, and she is determined to fight back with a stronger, louder weapon--her pen--and she hopes you will do the same with your own talents and skills.  We must all work together to make our world a better place for our children.

Blessings to you and yours on this Thanksgiving Day, and may your hearts be brave and your turkey tasty.


Wednesday, November 23, 2016

A Woman's Work Is Never Done

Fiorella's Spanish studies have taken a back seat to the election, her book, and yard work these past two weeks, but now she's ready to swing back into linguistic action. She has several pages of new words to post all around the house, verbs and conjugations to learn, and maybe a class to take, if she can work it to her busy schedule. After all, she still has the election, her book, and the yard work to deal with.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

How Does Your Garden Grow

At Voltaire's urging, Fio is tending her own garden again, but this time she's planting it with thistles and dragonsteeth, nettles and bloodwort.  For what is right, she will fight.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Pioneer Woman

The temps are down to the forties, and the roar of chainsaws echoes in the land as our rural neighborhood prepares for winter. Fio took an hour break from working on her novel yesterday to help Husband cut some firewood, then filled a trash can with rotting wood from out in what the yardman calls "el  parke" to use as punk. As usual, she is determined to be as self-sufficient fire-wise as possible--no store-bought wood, no H-E-B starters.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Favorite Time of Year

Autumn is here. It was below sixty degrees yesterday evening, and Fio didn't get a single mosquito bite when she hiked up to the mailbox.. She does have a cold though, but she can deal with that.
*
Fio is, at last, back to work on her book. Strangely enough, the heartbreak of last week has strengthened her resolve and sharpened her pen. She will write deep, she will write strong. She will send her messages out to the world.
*
Sonia Dog has had a couple of re-occurrences of her leg problem, but she is now bouncing up the stairs with ease again. Of course, while she was down, Mommy and Daddy had to switch on and off sleeping on the couch with her so she wouldn't yelp all night.
*
Fio and Husband got some important gardening work done just before the temperatures dropped, and twenty-six boxwoods now guard the edge of their front yard.  Next spring, Fio plans to plant nandenas and a third ligustrum. Anything to cover the AC units.
*
Husband is talking about chopping up some dead tree limbs for firewood. The time is at hand.


Saturday, November 19, 2016

Human Decency and Civil Discourse

I have a very dear friend who voted for Trump. I was appalled, but never questioned her choice just as she never questioned my support of Hillary--we coexisted in our friendship because we both respect the freedom of the ballot. But I do not respect the ugly posters, the gloating, the jeering, and the personal attacks that have been posted since the election by some of Trump's supporters. Their behavior has not made me question my choice or retreat into a cave to lick my wounds. If anything, it has strengthened my resolve to use every talent and skill I have to promote human decency and civil discourse. For what is right, I will fight.

Friday, November 18, 2016

WARNING!

In one way or another, our planet recycles everything from people to glaciers to forests to magnificent edifices. All is transformed, nothing is wasted, nothing is lost--except for all the metal we have been sending into space for the last fifty years. Think about it. The weight of our planet has already shrunk by hundreds of tons.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Yesterday's News

Fiorella had it all planned out. She woke up at 7:00 and packed all her stuff in a tote, then set off at 8:00 for her ophthamologist appointment in Austin at 9:20. The drive usually takes forty-five minutes, but Fio allowed for traffic slowdowns on the interstate. What she did not bargain for was almost three hours of claustrophobic inch-by-inch driving. She staggered into the doctor's office late, but the women at the desk understood and assured her they would be able to  fit her in within an hour, but Fio asked them to set the new appointment for 1:30 because she had another appointment at 11:30.

But the 11:30 appointment didn't work out. At loose ends, Fio picked up a Colonel Sanders lunch and drove around a little, then attended her 1:30 ophthamology appointment. As part of the exam, her eyes were dilated, so afterwards, so she waited about an hour until she thought the dilation had abated enough for her to drive. She  took off at about 3:00. Horror upon horror, she had trouble seeing the lane divides. Nothing to do but take the access roads, drive slowly, and pray. Needless to say, several drivers indicated their displeasure.

When Fio finally made it home and told Husband about her day, he wasn't at all sympathetic. In fact, he was horrified when she told him that after two hours of stand-still traffic, she had started screaming, banging her wheel, and honking her horn. For her part, Fio was not happy to see the house was in disarray and that, again, the front door had been left hanging open.

Husband went upstairs, and Fio heard a sound like someone falling hard. She ran up to the bedroom and found Husband face down, half on the bed, half on the floor, He told her that not only had he been dizzy for a couple of days, but he'd fallen earlier in the day when she was gone. With visions of a pneumonia relapse dancing in her head and getting angrier with every mile, Fiorella, still fighting left-over dilation, drove him to the emergency room. She already had enough on her plate, and now she was facing a repeat of the in-and-out horror of a couple of months ago. It was too much.

She threw a fit in the hospital, something she would have never believed herself capable of. She sees herself as the nice person, the one who keeps her head when all about were losing theirs. But the worm had turned. Enough was enough. She yelled. She cried, She cursed. She got escorted out by a security guard and a counselor.

The counselor talked with her as she sobbed her heart out. He was a nice guy who told her to be good to herself and relax, yada, yada, which is all well and good, but Fio, whose prime directive is action, doesn't want to relax. She wants to accomplish--to write books and paint pictures and learn languages. She wants, to save the world.

Is that too much to ask?

PS: The dilation left-over persisted and she had to drive all the way home  in the dark of night at a snail's pace, with every headlight, traffic light, and neon sign shattering into vibrant colors in front of her. Always have a designated driver with you when you go to the ophthamologist.

Yesterday's News

Fiorella had it all planned out. She woke up at 7:00 and packed all her stuff in a tote, then set off at 8:00 for her ophthamalogist appointment in Austin at 9:20. The drive usually takes forty-five minutes, but Fio allowed for traffic slowdowns on the interstate. What she did not bargain for was almost three hours of claustrophobic inch-by-inch driving. She staggered into the doctor's office late, but the women at the desk understood and assured her they would be able to  fit her in within an hour, but Fio asked them to set the new appointment for 1:30 because she had another appointment at 11:30.

But the 11:30 appointment didn't work out. At loose ends, Fio picked up a Colonel Sanders lunch and drove around a little, then attended her 1:30 appointment. As part of the exam, her eyes were dilated, and afterwards, she waited about an hour till she thought the dilation had abated enough for her to drive. She  took off at about 3:00, horror upon horror, had trouble seeing the lane divides. Nothing to do but take the access roads, drive slowly, and pray. Needless to say, several drivers indicated their displeasure.

When Fio finally made it home and told Husband about her day, he wasn't at all sympathetic. In fact, he was horrified that, an hour of stand-still traffic, she had started screaming, banging her wheel, and honking her horn. For her part, Fio was not happy to see the house was in disarray and discover that the front door was hanging open.

Husband went upstairs, and Fio heard a sound like someone falling hard. She ran up to the bedroom and found Husband face down, half on the bed, half on the floor and he told her that not only had he been dizzy for a couple of days, but he'd fallen earlier in the day when she was gone. With visions of a pneumonia relapse dancing in her head, Fiorella,  fighting left-over dilation the whole way, drove him lickity-split to the emergency room, getting angrier with every mile. She already had enough on her plate, and now she was facing a repeat of the in-and-out horror of a couple of months ago. It was too much.

She threw a fit in the hospital, something she would have never believed herself capable of--she'd always striven so hard to be a nice person, the one who kept her head when all about were losing theirs. But the worm had turned. Enough was enough. She yelled, cried, and cursed. She got escorted out by a security guard and a counselor.

The counselor stayed and talked with her as she sobbed her heart out. He told her to be good to herself and relax, yada, yada, which is all well and good, but Fio, whose inborn prime directive is action, doesn't want to relax. She wants to accomplish--to write books and paint pictures and learn languages, to walk into a neat, clean, organized house, and to save the world.

Is that too much to ask?

(PS: The dilation left-over persisted and she had to drive all the way home slowly, complete with honking cars, in the dark of night with every headlight, traffic light, and neon sign shattering into colors in front of her. And you wonder why she's tense.)

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Revelation

I thought that I would never stop crying
That I would never heal
But fire has burned away the dross
And now, I am steel

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Fictional Role Models

Fiorella spent most of her youth with her nose buried in a book. She learned tenacity from The Little Engine That Could, feminism from the story of a girl bunny who crashed the glass ceiling and became an Easter rabbit, the power of a positive attitude from Pollyanna, rolling with the punches from Heidi, a belief in the future from Girl of the Limberlost, and human decency from Anne of Green Gables. Husband's heroes were the Lone Ranger and Captain Corbett of the the Space Patrol. No wonder we turned out so well.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Call to Action.

Think about the effect on the country of books like Uncle Tom's Cabin, Silent Spring, The Jungle, Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl. Think about role models like Harry Potter, Dorothy of Oz, Anne of Green Gables, the Little Engine that Could. Writers have the power within them to change the world. Now is the time to write strong, write deep.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Lament

Back to the weeping all the time--while driving, in the doctor's office, at home, at Target, wherever, because Fiorella is afraid. Having lived a life littered with unexpected hurdles and many black pits, Fiorella is the queen of what-if, and everything she pictures as the aftermath of the election is scary. Fiorella's angry too. Those who took the high road are being vilified while those who took the low road have been uplifted and glorified.

Where is God?

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Defiance

I'm not big
I'm not strong
But at least I know
Right from wrong

Friday, November 11, 2016

Empowerment

Fiorella is moving into another stage of grief--anger. She's angry at what happened, angry at people who derided her sorrow, and angry at her own helplessness. But, as friend Shiloh Walker pointed out, Fio is NOT helpless--she can write. So this afternoon Fio finished the third revision of her work-in-progress, decided to self-publish a book that's been sitting in her documents pages for way too long because it was considered too "daring," and plotted out a book about a woman who is flaming angry--like she is.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Aftermath

I joined Facebook a couple of years ago because my agent told me to, but I soon learned to enjoy it for itself, reconnecting with old friends, and making new friends. And now it is my major comfort. Not only have FB friends wept along with me, but they've used directed lasers at a couple of mean-minded attackers. Patricia, Shiloh, Tommie, Clara Sue--THANK YOU!

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Father, Forgive Them

I cried all night long. She was crucified on a  cross of hate by a man whose only god is the almighty dollar. Have I stepped into an alternate universe?  Is this all a bad dream?

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Second Tuesday in November

It's here at last, election day
May all go as it should, I pray
May ignorance and hatred fail
May harmony and hope prevail
Bless our nation, God, today
Show us the path, thy rightful way


Monday, November 7, 2016

Rural Witchery

Fiorella has a witch's garden out front. Every shrub, plant, and flower in it is poisonous, although she did chop out her oleanders today to make room for ligustrums. No evil plans afoot, no murderous beverages brewing--it's just that Fio lives in deer territory, and pansies, caladiums, oleanders, ligustrums, boxwoods, and the like are the only greeneries that Bambi thinks twice about before sucking them down like a vacuum cleaner.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

New Skill Set

Wow--Fio unleashed a firestorm on Facebook when she said that Hillary had self control and Trump didn't. The debate went vicious, then nasty when a Trump enthusiast sabotaged her timeline by posting fifteen copies of an anti-Hillary propaganda sheet. Luckily Fio woke up in the middle of the night (probably on a nudge from God) and figured out how to take them all down, thus adding a new tool to her electronic skill set.
Fio, who supports free speech even if it disagrees with her, has never had to censor anyone before.

New Skill Set

Wow--Fio unleashed a firestorm on Facebook when she said that Hillary had self control and Trump didn't. The debate went vicious, then nasty when a Trump enthusiast sabotaged her timeline by posting fifteen copies of an anti-Hillary propaganda sheet. Luckily Fio woke up in the middle of the night (probably on a nudge from God) and figured out how to take them all down, thus adding a new tool to her electronic skill set.
Fio, who supports free speech even if it disagrees with her, has never had to do that before.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Taking on All Comers

Fiorella doesn't understand.  After she and her brother left the family nest, her mother had a hard time finding ways to occupy herself and actually went through a period of depression. Fio herself has wrestled with depression from time to time, but never from lack of things to do. There are always pictures to paint, languages to learn at, stories to write, a house to whip into shape, and now, five and one-third acres to tame. Fio's often feels overwhelmed, but she's never at loose ends.

Friday, November 4, 2016

Literary Notes

Hooray for Fio--she's back in the saddle again.  Yes, she picked up her notebook and went over the first three chapters of Phillipa's story yesterday, and today she'll review three more chapters. It's been a long time coming and  feels so good!
*
Fiorella attended a little get-together of about six neighborhood ladies last week where the hostess mentioned that Fio is a writer, igniting interest which Fio hopes will leads to sales. Word of mouth is still the best advertiser there is. Thank you, Kathy.
*
Fio's going to get on her bandwagon now and complain about men's fiction--thrillers--being considered respectable and women's fiction--romances--being snickered at. It's sexism, plain and simple.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Ideal Day

What would Fiorella's ideal day be like, you ask?  Well, it would be cool but sunny, and she would spend time with Husband and dog, visit with friends, write, paint, and work on her languages. In the meantime, the house and the yard would magically organize themselves just as she had planned.

Sigh...

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Determination

It's settled. Fiorella will be spending a a fair amount of time tomorrow visiting with friend Paula and attending a physical therapy session one of her doctors signed her up for, but after she gets home, she's going to devote at least two hours to her third book, the one that stopped dead three months ago when "the troubles" began. Maybe even a couple of hours more.

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Blood in the Streets

Aha!  Fiorella predicted it--one more Trump reveal, as if anyone cares at this point. Apparently Donald and his family handle the many lawsuits leveled against their fraudulent enterprises by destroying the paper trail as soon as documentation is requested by the court--and THEY GET AWAY WITH IT.

SHAME! LOCK THEM ALL UP!

Monday, October 31, 2016

1776 GeorgetownTheater Review--B-O-R-I-N-G

Fiorella had high expectations of the Georgetown Theater's production of the musical 1776 because it was a much-lauded Broadway show, and also because, in her second book, she had given her hero a role in Bosque Bend's civic theater production of it. But the Palace show dragged into boredom, and, when, despite the beautiful voice of Buddy Novak singing a heart-wrenching ballad, the last scene of the first act fell flat, she and Husband decided enough was enough and walked out at intermission.

There were other problems too. For some unisex reason, a good number of the male roles, including that of John Adams, were played by women who dressed as men but sang in decidedly female voices, and although Danielle Ruth played Adams manfully, it didn't help that "his" wife was a good foot taller than he was. Also, the portrayal of Benjamin Franklin as a buffoon affronted Fio, who always enjoyed reading--and teaching--his clever essays. And she got tired of characters making sniggering sexual references like dirty-minded schoolboys.

On the other hand, Thomas Jefferson (Justin Dam) was a heartthrob with an electrifying voice, and most of the women also had excellent singing voices. But their speaking voices got loud and painfully shrill during the political arguments, which made Fio realize why Hillary keeps her vocal tone under tight control.

The company was a motley crew.  The representative from Georgia, played by a chirpy little blonde, didn't even try for a southern accent while the representative from South Carolina (Rutledge, played to perfection by Emily Perzan) had it down pat.  In fact, Fio's eyes kept following Perzan, who stayed in character the entire time.

The setting (of the first act at least) was interesting, a reproduction of Independence Hall, tally board and all, but the costumes looked like leftovers from earlier productions, and the "men's" wigs looked like restyled women's wigs, Franklin's being the worst.

Two final notes.
1) Listening to the right/left song. Fio couldn't help but wonder if scheduling 1776 for the month before elections was deliberate, a subtle attempt to influence the electorate to, as the Continental Congress did, go left.
2) Studying the skeleton of this slow-motion bomb, Fio realized she too could write a boffo Broadway show. How about she flesh out the "Gift of the Magi" musical she outlined in her second book?  Producers, angels, are you listening?

1776 GeorgetownTheater Review--B-O-R-I-N-G

Fiorella had high expectations of the Georgetown Theater's production of the musical 1776 because it was a much-lauded Broadway show, and also because, in her second book, she had given her hero a role in Bosque Bend's civic theater production of it. But the Palace show dragged into boredom, and, when, despite the beautiful voice of Buddy Novak singing a heart-wrenching ballad, the last scene of the first act fell flat, she and Husband decided enough was enough and walked out at intermission.

There were other problems too. For some unisex reason, a good number of the male roles, including that of John Adams, were played by women who dressed as men but sang in decidedly female voices, and although Danielle Ruth played Adams manfully, it didn't help that "his" wife was a good foot taller than he was. Also, the portrayal of Benjamin Franklin as a buffoon offended Fio, who always enjoyed reading--and teaching--his clever essays. And she got tired of characters making sniggering sexual references like dirty-minded schoolboys.

On the other hand, Thomas Jefferson (Justin Dam) was a heartthrob with an electrifying voice, and most of the women also had excellent singing voices. But their speaking voices got loud and painfully shrill during the political arguments, which made Fio realize why Hillary keeps her vocal tone under tight control.

The company was a motley crew.  The representative from Georgia, played by a chirpy little blonde, didn't even try for a southern accent while the representative from South Carolina (Rutledge, played to perfection by Emily Perzan) had it down pat.  In fact, Fio's eyes kept following Perzan, who stayed in character the entire time.

The setting (of the first act at least) was interesting, a reproduction of Independence Hall, tally board and all, but the costumes looked like leftovers from earlier productions, and the "men's" wigs looked like restyled women's wigs, Franklin's being the worst.

Two final notes.
1) Listening to the right/left song. Fio couldn't help but wonder if scheduling 1776 for the month before elections was deliberate, a subtle attempt to influence the electorate to, as the Continental Congress did, go left.
2) Studying the skeleton of this slow-motion bomb, Fio realized she too could write a boffo Broadway show. How about she flesh out the "Gift of the Magi" musical she outlined in her second book?  Producers, angels, are you listening?

Sunday, October 30, 2016

A Good Evening Out

People invigorate Fiorella, even at a ladies' wine-tasting party at which Fiorella doesn't partake of the main course because she's never developed a taste for alcohol.

As Fio started out for vecina (neighbor) Kathy's casa (house) at  about four, her vecina up the street, Micky, joined her and they walked and talked the rest of the way together. At the party, Fio became acquainted or better acquainted with other vecinas. We talked about the vecindad (neighborhood)--the casa that is up for sale, current gentrification efforts, rattlesnake and coyote sightings--and we talked about our perros (dogs) and familias (families). Fio managed to get in a plug for Fernando's yardwork, and Kathy told everyone about the romances Fio writes, but the real thrill for Fio was when one of the vecinas, a native speaker of el espanol (Spanish), offered to help Fio with the language. Pobrecita (poor little one), she doesn't know how soon she's going to be called on.

Saturday, October 29, 2016

Spanish vs. English

Fio picked up a Spanish-language newspaper (periodico) the other day and is working her way through the ads. Her vocabulary has increased and she's added some prepositions and a verb or two, but hasn't gone in for the kill yet--conjugations and declensions.  In the meantime, she's still watching Spanish-language TV, which is a story in itself.  Apparently being able to cry on cue is a prerequisite for the female stars. Last night was the crowner--five women weeping in a hospital room all at once.

Fio is fascinated by the contrast between English and Spanish. For instance, Spanish uses more syllables than English in pronouncing such morphemes as -ion and to to express a possessive construction (banquetta del piano vs. piano bench).  Spanish also avoids certain consonant combinations by adding in "extra" vowels (escuela vs. school).

All in all, because they are both Indo-European languages, English comes out sounding like a shorthand of Spanish. The difference is that English took the Germanic route and Spanish took the Romance route, which all goes to show you that you can take the girl out of linguistics but can't take the linguistics out of the girl.

Spanish vs. English

Fio picked up a Spanish-language newspaper (periodico) the other day and is working her way through the ads. Her vocabulary has increased and she's added some prepositions and a verb or two, but hasn't gone for the kill yet--conjugations and declensions.  In the meantime, she's still watching Spanish-language TV, which is a story in itself.  Apparently being able to cry on cue is a prerequisite for the female stars. Last night was the crowner--five women weeping in a hospital room all at once.

Fio is fascinated by the contrast between English and Spanish. For instance, Spanish uses more syllables in such pronunciations as -ion and to to express a possessive construction than English (banquetta del piano vs. piano bench).  Spanish also avoids certain consonant combinations by adding in "extra" vowels (escuela vs. school). 

All in all, because they are both Indo-European languages, English comes out sounding like a shorthand of Spanish. The difference is that English took the Germanic route and Spanish took the Romance route, which all goes to show you that you can take the girl out of linguistics but can't take the linguistics out of the girl.

Friday, October 28, 2016

Manic Phase

Watch out, world!  Fiorella feels GOOD today! Two doctor visits yesterday, and both went well. Also, her cockamamie idea of buying a twelve foot long 4x5, having it cut into four-foot lengths so she could handle them and they would  fit into the back seat of Husband's car, then driving then home to use instead of rocks at strategic places along the driveway so the riding mower will have easy access (got all that?) looks like it will work. Also, when she and Husband accidentally locked themselves outside the house, she realized the only way they could get in was by removing the temporary guest-room air conditioner and climbing in the window--and since Husband's arm is still in a sling, she did the job, which was sort of thrilling. Her first break and enter!

Also, she accomplished everything on her lista yesterday (ayer), celebrated with two slices of Starbucks marble pound cake and a pint of Blue Bell without even have a twinge of GERD, slept like a baby all night, woke up today with the beginnings of a marketing plan for Phillipa's story, and feels Tony-the-Tiger G-R-R-R-E-A-T!

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Progress

Husband is home from the hospital to stay, and we picked up his car from the body shop this afternoon, which are two giant steps forward. Now if we can just find his wallet and two pairs of my glasses, which have been missing for about a week. Wish us well.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Two-car Family

It's nerve-wracking when you're down to one hoss. Husband rode the Miata to the local drivers' license bureau, and Fio is sitting at home trying not to think of all the dastardly things that might happen along the way.  Like that he'd get picked up for driving without a license and Fio's baby car would be impounded, leaving them completely without transportation. Like that he'd lose the ONE AND ONLY KEY. Like that he'd get into an accident. Like that he'll run late, forgetting that Fiorella needs the car by 1:00.

But if all goes well, Husband will come home with a replacement driver's license in hand, and we will pick up his repaired boat of a car tomorrow, which will put two hosses in our corral again.  Then Fio can let her well-developed worrying powers dwell on whatever other possible crisis rears its ugly head.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Determination

When times get rough,
Rough and tough,
More than enough,
Fiorella will contrive,
Contrive and connive.
To survive

Monday, October 24, 2016

Running Late

Greetings, Fellow Mortals!

Yes, Fio is running late.  A little problema with her computadora, claro que si. To be preciso, her internet wouldn't open up.  Panic--was it another internet attack?  Fio sped off to ever-reliable Click, where her internet opened up immediately, so she brought la computadora back home and her esposo labored in his oficina for half an hora and finally got la machina working right, although Fio has to go round-about ways to reach Google News, Facebook, and her G-mail.

Will Fiorella every have a nice, peaceful, productive day again or has she already entered the gates of electronic hell?

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Current Issues

Instead of devoting her day to writing yesterday, Fio devoted it to another hospital visit and her baby car, whose battery died at the hospital (irony), leaving Fio and Husband stranded. But all's well that ends well, and by the end of the day, everyone and everything was shipshape again.

It looks like the electronic underpinning of the country is shipshape again too--until the next time.

Such a frail system to live by. Fio has long warned that God may decide to turn off the electricity, but it never dawned on her that technology could be manipulated to turn upon itself. A deeper concern is why do people do things like this, deliberately destroy.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Literary Ambition

Fiorella is planning to get going with Phillipa's story again today.  That's the one she put in storage six weeks ago when Husband started his in-and-out-the-window with the hospitals.  Wish her well.

Friday, October 21, 2016

Tidbits a la Mode

Happy birthday to Sonia dog!  She is five wonderful years old today, and Fio loves her more than ever.
*
Fiorella's prediction of two more Trump biggies before the election has come half-true, but Fio's timing was off.  Instead of it coming before the third debate, it came at the end of it, and el hombre malo provided it by calling Clinton a "nasty woman" like a second-grader saying all girls have cooties. Now let's see if there's another reveal between now and November 7.
*
When Fio opened her front door and picked up the newspaper this morning, she noticed there were a few dead leaves on it and the porch.  Aaah--fall is here at last.

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Hi, There!

Fiorella met a Dutch couple at Starbucks last week and, Fio being Fio, she asked them how to say to say "Hello" in that language, so now "Goede dag" has joined "Guten tag," "Hola," "Nee hau," "Bon jour," "Buongiorno," "Zdrahstweetza," "Keefik," and "Nuhmuhstay."


Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Misplaced Priorities

Fiorella is outraged at the report that the Smithsonian is trying to raise $300,000 to repair "Dorothy's ruby slippers." In the first place, those were Judy Garland's shoes, not Dorothy's--in L. Frank Baum's book, Dorothy's slippers were silver. In the second place, "The Wizard of Oz" was an enjoyable movie, but those shoes are neither a religious not a historical relic. In the third place, and most important, $300,000 spent repairing costume shoes would be a massive misuse of resources that could otherwise be used to better peoples' lives through education, medical research, or help agencies. Let's get real here--people are more important than celluloid.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

What Is This Thing Called "Normal?"

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...the light at the end of the tunnel. Husband has been home from the hospital for a week now and seems to be genuinely on the mend this time.  Meanwhile Minnesota son has gotten the family electronics straightened out and helped with after-care and transportation, and Fiorella's monstrous list has been reduced to half a page.  Still a few things to go--like finding Husband's wallet--but all in all, sanity is returning to Casa Fiorella. She's planning to wash her hair today and has made arrangements to attend a romance writers' meeting tonight. And, wonder of wonders, she's soon going to have time to write again.

Monday, October 17, 2016

One Down, One to Go

Things are looking up. Fiorella's yellow list, the one she called and visited seven places to try to locate, was found--in the cushions of a chair that had been already searched several times. Now if we can just find Husband's wallet.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

Happiness Is a Happy Family

Minnesota son, who is visiting to help Fio and Husband in the aftermath of Husband's hospital stays, celebrated his belated birthday yesterday. In the afternoon, he drove into Austin for a get-together with Brother and Sister, and, in the evening, Brother came to the house and was joined by Cousin and Wife. There were a lot of stories and a lot of laughter, which warmed Fio's heart.  She slept well last night.

Friday, October 14, 2016

Question.

Why don't males pick up after themselves?  Is it genetic through the male line?

Older

Fiorella is officially an old lady, but that's better than being a dead old lady. To prove her maturity, she wears the universal pendant of old age, a personal alarm button.  (Truth to tell, the major reason is that she might take a fall or encounter a rattler or  copperhead the hard way while she is exploring the wildwoods.)
*
There should probably be an upper age limit for drivers, but then how could older people get around to buy clothes and groceries, visit with friends, and attend doctor appointments?
*
This topic is depressing. Fio needs her hair done, some botox, a photofacial, and a pedicure to cheer her up.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Political Prediction

Fiorella is fascinated by the rhythm of the Democratic campaign. You can't tell her that Hillary's people haven't spent months amassing a treasure chest of goodies about Trump for release at set intervals--like just before a debate. And Fio suspects there will be two more reveals to come, at least one of them about Trump's purported drug habit. (Spoiler alert: look up "Trumps' drug dealer" on Google.)

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Fiorella Indominatable

With Husband in and out of the hospital, Fiorella has been burning the candle at both ends, taking care of everything at home, then running off to visit Husband with rolling suitcases and plastic bags of requested items. But today she took a vacation. Minnesota son has come down to Texas to help, and he gave Fio the day off. While he visited with his father, Fio took care of the dregs of the tax returns for 2015), cleaned up more of the den and bedroom, and arranged for appointments with all the medicos she had had to cancel for Husband and herself during this time of crisis. Lots more to do, but she's hoping to be able to start writing again at the end of the week. Wish her well.

Monday, October 10, 2016

The Sexes

Men are strong, but women endure.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

What She Lives By


Fiorella's Law:
Economy of motion=economy of time

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Updating Sonia Dog

Sonia dog is wise to the odors of humankind. She huddles on the couch, dejected but accepting, when  she smells Chanel #5 because that means Mommy is about to drive off somewhere without her.  And she rushes to the door, her tail wagging, when she smells mosquito repellent because that means Mommy is about to go out into the yard and she is welcome to accompany her.
*
Sonia likes her morning ceremonies.  She demands a new-day rub down, then expects to receive a  rawhide bone, the leftover milk from Mommy's breakfast cereal bowl, and a Milkbone..  And if Mommy forgets anything, Sonia clues her in by whining piteously or delivering a sharp, reprimanding bark.
*
Sonia is a homebody. She is the on;y dog Fiorella has ever had that doesn't make a run for freedom the second the door is opened. Instead, when Mommy invites her out, she explores the area for new (and suspicious) developments, then waits patiently on the porch for Mommy to let her back inside so she can nap on the couch again..

Friday, October 7, 2016

Restored

Fiorella has been in a very stressful situation lately which has resulted in her boiling over with anger, not being able to sleep, running around like a chicken with her head cut off--the works--so today she took the afternoon off and put up her Halloween decorations.  A big metal jack-o-lantern went on the wrought iron table in the yard, paper pumpkins were stuck to her front door and selected side windows, and a swirl of cardboard bats were arranged so they moved from one front window to the next one. In addition, a small plastic skeleton now hangs from the mailbox (buzon) out on the road (camino).

And Fiorella is happy.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Five Fio Factoids

Fiorella planned to grow up tall, slender, graceful, dignified, and serene.  Guess who didn't hit her mark, mark, mark, mark, mark.
*
Fiorella's operates by priorities, lists, and systems. And yeah, she's a three-things-at-once kind of gal.
*
Fiorella likes people.  She's interested in them, especially the ones she doesn't understand.
*
Fiorella knows all those words but usually doesn't use them. Usually.
*
Fio has a deep need to communicate, to express herself. So far she's written books, short stories, poetry, essays, and reported for newspapers and magazines. She also maintains this blog and is active on Facebook. The girl just can't keep her mouth shut or her pen still.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Minnesota Son's Birthday

Today is the birthday of Fiorella's oldest child, and Fio can't help but reminisce a little. Minnesota Son was a big baby, just over ten pounds, with black hair and blue eyes, and, as the nurses had said, exceptionally pretty for a newborn.

The dark hair soon fell out, and medium brown hair came in at about the same time the blue eyes turned brown. Fio's brown-eyed mother was thrilled.  She held Son in her arms and, with her blue-eyed daughter standing beside her, said, "I think dark eyes look more intelligent."

Son was a good baby and slept through the night so early that it scared Fio the first time. He was an early walker too, but the talking came late, probably because, as Husband and Fio finally discovered, he needed tubes in his ears.

He was a very active child, learning to ride a two-wheel bike when he was three, and he loved playgrounds--always trying to figure out how things worked, like when he hunched down and peered at the motor under the merry-go-round. Later on, he learned how to fix anything mechanical, and now he can take on anything electronic.

He's good with animals and was always musical, a  talent that has blossomed through the years, as has his art. And he  has a great speaking voice and vocabulary and uses good grammar.

But most important, Son has a good heart and loves his wife, his family, and his God.

Fiorella is blessed.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Fio, Future, Barbara Lee

Fio has always avoided wearing her glasses in favor of--ahem--her natural beauty. But she's decided to keep them on all the time now because she needs to see and because--well--they're so stylish.
***
Husband's mother once told Fio that she and Husband's father would not be able to stay in their home if it weren't for their loyal long-time maid, and Fio is foreseeing a future in which she and Husband will be more and more dependent on their twice-a-month maid, once-a month yardman, and the handyman Fio wants to hire, which will add up to quite a chunk of cash. A retreat to the city is in the cards sooner rather than later.
***
God bless Barbara Lee. God bless us all.

Monday, October 3, 2016

Maturity?

More and more, Fiorella is guided by the old adages--like a stitch in time saves nine, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, never put off till tomorrow what you can do today, and waste not, want not. Oh Lordy, maybe she's finally grown up.

Sunday, October 2, 2016

What a Show!

Fiorella LOVED Georgetown's Palace Theater production of 42nd Street!  It hit all the right spots and left the audience begging for more.  Georgetown's Palace Theater has come along way from when it had to paint mustaches on high school boys and so they could pass as adults on stage.

42nd Street is a period piece, and Fio doesn't remember ever seeing it as a movie,but she did know most of the songs--notably Dames, We're in the Money, Sunny Side, Lullaby of Broadway, About a Quarter to Nine, Shuffle Off to Buffalo, Forty-second Street. The story, based on a movie based on a book, is cliche: a young, pretty hoofer comes to NY, is thrust into spotlight, and, despite setbacks, makes it big. It's a silly show biz parody in which even the villain turns sweet, but it's also somehow quite touching.

What can Fio say? The casting was great, the costumes were perfect, the settings were right-on, and the dance numbers (choreographed by Jessee Smart) were unbelievably good. Fio's favorite routines were the French farce-like scene on the sleeper car and the Agnes de Mille hooker scene at the end of the show.

Getting down to nit-picking minutia, the heroine's blonde wig turned a surprising white under "nighttime" lights, the young boy in the cast never missed a beat but seemed out of place in the sometimes bawdy musical, and Fio and her guests couldn't figure out why a happy-looking man was dressed--and danced--as a woman in the final scene.

Anyway, the show was great.  Fio's been through a lot lately and 42nd Street allowed her to escape into another world for two glorious hours. Maybe that's what show business is all about.





Saturday, October 1, 2016

A Dog's Life

Fio was thrilled when Sonia Dog began burying rawhide bones not only in the couch and the newspapers, but OUTSIDE because she is the first dog Fio has ever had who did so.  But recently Sonia has taken to digging up bones from the yard and bringing them inside to chaw on. Fio is not as thrilled.

Friday, September 30, 2016

Helpers

Fiorella loves people who help her, like the man at HEB who got the leche down from the top shelf in the dairy case for her yesterday and the checker who taught her the Spanish word for "bag"--bolsa. Like Patrick at Click Computer Repair, who unfroze her computadora and put an icon on its desktop so Fio could do the job herself in the future. Like our Chase Bank person who listened to Fio babble on about Husband's hospital stays and comforted her.

God is good. People are good. All will be well.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

STOP!

Fiorella does not like change.  She hasn't caught up with yesterday yet.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Family, Friends, and Neighbors

Fiorella is very fortunate to have a family that gathers around in times of trouble: Daughter, Austin son, Minnesota son, nephews. She is also blessed with good friends. T Carando has been especially helpful. And she can't leave out her neighbors, Kathy and Mike.

Thank you, one and all.


Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Clinton Debate

No, Fio didn't watch the debate. She dropped out of debating in the eleventh grade because she suddenly realized she didn't like arguing.. Back to the present, people know who they're going to vote for by now so Fio just wants to mark her ballot and get it over with.

Okay, she'll admit she read the reviews of the debate, especially the funny ones, but that was it.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Bingeing on Fio

Fiorella has been interested to learn that many of you are binge readers, waiting for Fio's words of wit and wisdom to pile up for a while before partaking. Actually, you're giving her a break, because she likes to go back a day or so after she's posted and improve on her message.  Yes, Fio is a writer, which is the same as saying that she is a serial reviser.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Mosquitoes Take Warning!

As Fio emptied a small glass vase crammed with dying carnations, four black mosquitoes leaped up out of their natal cradle. She clamped her palm across the top of the vase, rushed to the door and tossed the water and its occupants into the unforgiving night. But one mosquito had escaped before she knew what was going on and is, no doubt, circling your faithful correspondent to zoom in for its vampiric feast.

Watch out, babe.  Fio's slap is quicker than the eye.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Yellow Tablet

Fiorella now has a glimmer of how veterans feel when they return from a war zone. Her mind is running a horror show of her past ten days, and she has a hard time defining "normal" any more. She keeps make stabs at it, trying to get into past routines, but it's hard when, in addition to everything else, her notepad, her yellow writing tablet that has all her important notes and reminders crammed in the back of it, turns up missing. It's like Virgil deserted her in his tour of hell.

Friday, September 23, 2016

Fresh Meat

As Fiorella stepped out onto the front porch for the newspaper, a black mosquito glided languorously by. obviously checking her out.  Fio is irresistable.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Cordon Bleu She's Not

Fiorella's culinary repertoire is limited.  She can bake salmon and fry haddock, boil and scramble eggs, bake potatoes in an oven and boil them on a stove, cook frozen french fries in a the electric fry pan, and follow directions on the sides of boxes to make Jello, chocolate pudding, and cake.

Fio does a lot of eating out.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

From Microsoft to Motherhood

Fio woke up to a phone call from "Arthur," who told her that he was from Microsoft. "Sure you are," she replied, then started laughing.  Damn. "Arthur" hung up without giving her a chance to exercise her espanol on him.
*
Fiorella has been screaming a lot and crying a lot this past week. The screaming is when she is trying to burst through roadblocks.  The crying is when someone is kind to her.
*
Fio is blessed to have good friends and a loving family, but when it comes right down to it, she is the wife and mother, the one who has to make the decisions and deal with the consequences.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Acting Out

Face it, Fiorella--you lost your cool. You went ape-shit crazy when the home health care people didn't appear--again--and  you hit eighty as you sped down Hwy 29 toward the hospital because you wanted to pick up a police escort. You couldn't take it anymore and wanted the whole world to know what was going on.

You are definitely not cut out to be a nurse.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Buenos Dias!

Fio was exhausted from her list of morning-after-Husband-came-home chores when she stepped through the door of HEB, but she picked up her pace when she realized that she understood a few words from Spanish speakers walking by.  Nothing big, but enough that she was encouraged to ask the checker--knowing that the young woman might freeze her out--what the Spanish words for some of her purchases were. But the checker got so excited the she actually overloaded Fio with el espanol--which was the highlight of Fio's day.  Gracias!





Sunday, September 18, 2016

Reflections on Family and Crisis

No family is normal.  Every family has its own problems and secret sorrows.  But maybe that's what "normal" is.
***
Do all families pull together in times of crisis, or is Fiorella singularly blessed?
***
Fio is level-minded and quick in a crisis, but doesn't handle the long run well. That's when family steps in.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Continuing Saga

Husband is still in the hospital, but Daughter took off yesterday to help Fio.  In fact, she took over, which was great, accompanying Fiorella to the hospital, preparing a list of questions, and grilling the nurses, then taking Fio out to eat at Chili's. Afterwards she helped Fio gather what seemed like a fifty-pound weight of items Husband needed at his bedside, which Fio dutifully delivered after Daughter left.

This morning, Husband called Fio with all sorts of complaints about the nursing staff, so he must be getting better.


Friday, September 16, 2016

Good Thoughts Needed

Husband is back in the hospital--again. That's three days now. He had a shoulder transplant that caused some other complications. Please think good thoughts in his direction.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Campaign Fatigue

Fiorella is getting tired of the Presidential election campaign. She doesn't care if Hillary has caught a cold. She doesn't even care about how much money Trump has bilked out of people who signed up to work for him or be "educated" by him. She just wants a little rest from the both of them.
 























 


Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Fio Loses her Cool

Fiorella is usually the one who keeps her head while all about are losing theirs, but yesterday she blew her stack in public--in Georgetown's St. David's Hospital, of all places.

Husband had undergone shoulder replacement surgery, which went well, and Fio was moving back and forth between the hospital and and house, carrying a tote containing her laptop, a full bottle of water, her manuscript, her purse, a notepad, and a newspaper.  It was a  heavy load so she always tried to park near the hospital door, but by afternoon, she had to park at the cancer clinic next door. She was wearing down--getting up at 4:30 am and hurrying to and fro in the hot sun does that to you--so she asked the woman at the front desk to watch her tote for her while she retrieved her car and drove it to the hospital entrance.

The woman gave her a stony look and said she couldn't be responsible for personal property.  Fio explained that her car was around the other side in the cancer parking lot, but the woman just repeated that she couldn't be responsible for personal property.  Fio asked where she could take her tote that someone would watch it while she fetched her car .  The woman said, "Nowhere."

Fio was flabbergasted--and cornered. The boiler exploded and her words came out at a volume she hasn't heard since she trod the boards. Picking up her tote, she turned toward the whole room and yelled, "This hospital has inadequate parking and it will be responsible if I collapse on the pavement and die! F*** YOU!"

Then she staggered out and began her trek, taking breaks every ten steps or so to sit on the decorative boulders and get her breath.

She made it, obviously, but her bad hip hurts and she still doesn't understand what happened because the women at the desk earlier in the day had been willing to watched her tote while she got her car.

Whatever, Fio has a feeling she's going to be called to the principal's office and be told it was all her fault.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

A Language Kind of Girl

Is Fio completely insane?  Yes, but enjoyably so.  She's wallowing in Spanish now, gulping down every noun she encounters, and even venturing into adjectives and a few prepositions. Fio loves learning languages--happy days are here again!


Monday, September 12, 2016

Boldly Moving Forward

"Hola. Yo quiero cuatro ales, dos piernes, y dos muslos, por favor."  Yes, Fio can now order wings, thighs, and legs at Golden Fried Chicken.

Mi esposo, claro que si, stays home. Fio's antics embarrass him, and he's afraid the Golden Fried people will not react well to her attempts at speaking Spanish.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Thank you, David Rodriguez.

When Fio and Husband drove into Austin  yesterday to visit with Will Sherman and his wife, Diana, before they took for for Australia, the roads didn't seem to be where they used to be, and they got lost. Husband pulled into a friendly-looking Schlotzsky's and Fio ran inside the store and, without buying a thing, asked for directions. David, the handsome store manager, came to her aid, disappeared in the backroom fro a few minutes, and not only returned with a map he had run off his cell phone, but walked Fio outside to point her in the right direction.

Thank you, David, and thank you to Schlotzsky's for fostering such a good attitude in your employees.

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Madalyn and Me

Has Fio ever told you about her encounter with prominent atheist Madalyn Murray O'Hair?

It occurred in Fio's salad days, when she had taken a Christmas job hawking British Silver, a line of men's colognes, in a downtown department store. She wore a cute dress made of silver paper, smiled like crazy, and sold, sold, sold.  Then when the regular clerk was on break, she took over behind the counter.

One day, a face familiar from the newspapers appeared, and Fio asked Ms. O'Hair if she could help her. O'Hair gave her a narrow-eyed assessing stare and in a gruff voice, asked for "Wolf Brothers." Fiorella glanced over the stock, spotted Freres Loups, and handed it to her. La Madalyn was obviously taken aback, and Fio realized she had thought she was going to put one over on the vapid little salesgirl in the stupid silver dress.

What she didn't know was that Fiorella was a doctoral student in linguistics.

Friday, September 9, 2016

Trump--The Man Who Would Be God

Fiorella has noticed that the Republican Presidential candidate is not on a first name basis with himself,  instead preferring to refer to himself as "Mr. Trump" or "President Trump," Even more preferable of course, is "God Trump."
***
Have you picked up the pattern?  Whenever The Donald is in an uncomfortable situation--like visiting a black church, or being a guest on a talk show, or shuffling off to Mexico like a trained bear--he is totally non-reactive. There is no identification with his audience, no crossing of wits with Jimmy Kimmel, no meaningful discussion. The man has has no empathy, no wit, and no brain.
***
Trump's FB ads have been a weird cross of hucksterism and begging.  They've also been amateurish--grammar errors and bizarre photos.  Fio suspects Trump and the Trumpets are making the videos themselves in the old Apprentice studio in Trump Tower, then billing the Republican National Committee big bucks for their "labor."

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Spanish. Dream. Ditty

Fiorella lost a dia.  She didn't sleep well en el noche de martes, but more than made up for it on miercoles, which means most of her to-do list remains not-done. She didn't learn any mas palabras en espanol, work on her libro, check on a missing amiga, write some important letters, or any other pressing items. So on jueves she'd better dig in. Wish her bien.
***
UPDATE: Fio had a wonderful dream last noche, that her hija had married prince and had a bebe and the royal familia had come to visit.  The other abuela handed Fio the bebe and a bueno time was had by todo, especially Fio.
***
Fio must be
Very sweet
Because
Mosquitoes find her
Quite a treat