Fiorella drove to Austin in the rain yesterday, and it was quite relaxing. Her wipers moved back and forth, back and forth, clearing the wetness that pitter-patted on her windshield, the traffic was light and careful, moving a little slower than usual, and there was no problem with visibility. But the return trip was a different matter. Because the rain had been going on long enough by then that water had accumulated on the highway, all the cars ahead of Fio were generating their own camouflaging shower baths, which made them hard for her to keep track of, especially the white cars, which, in gray weather, blend in all too well.
As soon as she pastes a picture of Baby on the inside page, Fiorella's Christmas card will be on its way to FedEx Kinkos for its annual printing. In the meantime, Fio will be at H-E-B buying Christmas stamps. The rest of the week, she'll be signing the cards and addressing envelopes. Somewhere in there, she may try breathing.
Christmas brings out the octopus in Fio. Yes, she has her tentacles in every aspect of it--the outside decorations, the inside decorations, the stockings, the tree, the gifts, the cards, even the cooking--as long as no one expects anything more from her than chocolate pudding.