Fiorella awoke this morning a little tired and a lot depressed. Death is hard enough to deal with, but the aftermath, the ceremonies of funeral and interment, are daunting. Maybe that's why they were invented--to dull the sorrow by focusing on the mundane--making uninformed decisions and shelling out money. But, back to this morning: Fio was doubly upset by the lack of a newspaper on her front porch, partially because she's in the habit of reading one each morning and partially because she needs to reestablish her routine in order to reestablish herselself.
Damn--no choice but to gulp down her own brand of Dutch courage (a Russell Stover chocolate bar), and hustle up the winding driveway to the street.
And that's when the miracle happened. The air was clear, the sun was soft, and the rocks and trees were welcoming. Fiorella's energy level skyrocketed. and not only didshe pick up a couple of armsful of good-looking kindling and cache it beside the drive for future pickup, but she untwisted the twisties securing her tinsel garlands to each other. Give her a couple more days, and the driveway will be au natural again.
Now to sit down and read the newspaper. Well, truth to tell, Fio just skims the "news," but she doesn't want to miss the comic strips (especially Luann) and the anagrams.