Fiorella is methodical. She lives by systems and lists. Husband is more of a free spirit, which means Fio never knows where the phone is till she hears it ringing. Grrrr!
The east creek bed has yielded some very nice rocks, but its footing is more treacherous than the creek to the south, where the rock tree was, and the overgrowth is scary. Who knows what lurks in Fiorella's back woods?
Has Fio told you that the sages on the west side of the house are being consumed by a fungus? She used her pruners to cut down one of them and ended up with a twenty-minute coughing jag. Allergy? Who knows, but she's planning to use a chainsaw to take the others down with one fell swipe apiece. That is, if Husband can find where he put the charger.