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.