Here and There

Fiorella taught creative writing for two glorious semesters, but she got in trouble with the powers-that-be by not using a textbook because she believed--and still does--that textbook exercises and instructions are counter-productive when it comes to creativity. She wanted her students to draw inspiration from within themselves, not from textbooks.
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Has Fio ever told you that Husband is a second-generation birder, that his parents traveled all over the world to so his mother could add exotic birds to her list? That she was actually world-ranked at one time?
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As Fiorella has told you, she is now engaged in making her office livable, which means she's plowing through at least a ton of pages, books, and whatnots. Her old teaching stuff can go (although she's keeping the student evaluation accolades), but the books are mostly destined for donation to the Georgetown library, and the whatnots will be tossed or pawned off on friends and family. However, every precious page on which Fio has written an essay, poem, or story will be treasured forever.
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Fio was in a blue funk earlier in the day, frustrated by not being able to do anything about the school shootings, by the nonsense in DC, and by not being able to walk without pain because she'd been to the podiatrist the day before. Then, when she was at her lowest, Husband proposed driving over to Dairy Queen for dipped cones. Sonia Dog accompanied us (although she, of course, requested a Puppy Cup) and we all had a great time. Thanks, you, honey. Thank you, DQ.
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Fio has a hair appointment tomorrow with friend Deborah. Nothing like a stylist you've been going to for at least twenty-five years.