Back in the day--the day before the proliferation of paper and plastic products, to be exact--a woman's joy was to possess a nice set of china. Thus, through various twists and turns, Fio inherited two sets of really good china of the same pattern (Haviland, to be exact), one from her great-grandmother, the other from Husband's grandmother, and she uses them at Christmas every year. But now she's considering selling both of them off. The times, they are a-changin', and Fiorella doubts that the next generation will value this heritage. besides, there's only so much one can pass on without weighing people down.
Fiorella has been blessed with good friends. The guys at Mazda take good care of her baby car, Click Computer Repair provides not only good service, but good advice, and the lady bankers at Chase are helping her through a financial situation she wants to settle. Thank you, one and all.
Fio has been hearing a lot about meditation lately so she researched it on line--and decided it wasn't for her. Fiorella doesn't want to sit still, doesn't want to clear her mind of everything she has commited to, and doesn't want to hypnotize herself into nothingness. Ever since she was a child, she's had an acute perception of time passing, and she doesn't want to lose that feeling because it is what drives her to do what she must do before she leaves this earth.