Non-political Post

Fiorella has lost her favorite red lipstick and knows the only way to find it is to buy a new one--sigh.
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Why do people let other people control them--virtually enslave them? Nature, nurture, what?
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Congratulate Fio, she is back at work on a romance--not on Sabrina and Bram's cursed story, but an old one she'd almost forotten writing. It's a shapeshifter thing, actually, and she's using it as bait for that screwy SAVE and taking iPhone shots of every mischief her machine throws at her..
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Fiorella's been out in the woods a lot lately, dragging cedar branches onto the the side of the driveway for her wonderful yard man to dispose of. She's also picking up oak limbs and branches for firewood. (PS: Don't tell Husband because he doesn't know it yet, but Fiorella wants a new chainsaw for Christmas--either that or her old one totally checked out and overhauled.)
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As soon as she finishes this blog, Fio's going to be ordering some scuffs from a Christmas catalogue. She's wanted some for a while, but apparently they're only available during the winter months.