Romance, Dinero, Debate

Fiorella just spent a couple of hours printing out three of her unpublished romances and putting them in binders so she can work on them without having the dreaded "SAVE" thing pop up and nullifying her revisions and corrections. Three cheers for the new printer that Elder Son not only helped her buy, but installed for her. Of course, he wasn't too happy today when the printer wouldn't work because Fio had accidentally messed up the slides that control the length of the paper tray.
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Yeah, Fiorella is riding high--there's just one more insurance form to fill out and it looks like Yours Truly will have enough in the bank to pretty up the house and get a good price for it when the time comes to sell. Sonia Dog is a sweet companion, but it's hard to have a meaningful conversation with her.
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Interesting. Fio called one of her high school classmates on his FB technique, which was to attack the messenger rather than the message and, without naming names, said she would always be welcome to discuss politics, but would delete the comments of anyone who attacked her personally. Apparently he got the message because the next time around, he just asked her what her stand was on another topic. We'll see what happens next.

Excerpt from LEARNING PLEASURE

           "I want us to get married, and as soon as possible."
           Ann’s jaw dropped.  What could she say?   Thanks, but no thanks?   How could she make a graceful exit? 

            She cleared her throat and began.  “I’m grateful to you for giving me a job and for taking care of my father, but-- “

            He interrupted her.  “It won’t be real.  I mean, it will be legal, but I won’t expect anything from you.”  He ran his hand through his hair, which Ann had come to recognize as a sure sign of stress.  

            “Oh hell, you know what I mean—no sex. I know how you feel about me.  I won’t touch you.  Our relationship will be completely platonic.  And we can be divorced anytime you want, just as soon as I have full custody of Aidan.”

            She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “Neil, I want to help you get custody of your son, but do you really have to marry me?  I mean, you don’t love me.”

             “Love?”  His lip curled cynically.  “Been there, done that, darlin’.  I’m a two-time loser.  Married for love twice and it didn’t work out either time.  I was crazy in love with Angie.  She told me she was pregnant, which she wasn’t. Then she ran off with some guy who told her he played drums for Willie Nelson, which he didn’t.  Two years later, I met Belinda. I fell in love with her the first time I saw her.  I thought we’d live happily ever after, and you know what happened.”

            He exhaled strongly and shook his head.

            “I don’t love you, Ann, but I like you and I trust you.  I think we can deal well together.  And when you want out, I won’t stand in your way.” 

              “It’s so cold-blooded.”

            “Not cold-blooded.  Intelligent.  Logical.”  He glanced at the sheaf of papers on his desk.  “Charlie and I have been working on the pre-nup.  It’ll mean a lot of money for you.” 

            Ann looked at him in shock.  “Are you trying to buy me?”

Unwelcome Changes, Etc.

Fiorella does not like changes in the world or in her life, and, up close and personal, she does not like computers screwing around on her by deliberately displaying print so small that it strains her eyes. She also doesn't like computers being selective about letting her onto her blog or her email, and she doesn't appreciate having to pound repeatedly with her index finger to awaken her blog and her email icons.
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It seems strange, but Fio wasn't out on the acreage today. Instead, she spent a lovely day in Austin visiting with three of her lady friends for an hour each. Tomorrow, she'll be meeting with another  lady friend--this one in Gtown, and there are about five more friends on her list she's going to catch up with in the next few weeks. They empower her.
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Son flew back to Minnesota this morning, and Fiorella misses him.
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Weather permitting, Fio will tramp out into the woods tomorrow to line up the proposed north-east corner fence she wants to get installed. Closer to home, she will drive Baby Car around la entrada so she can lay alguna piedras around the areas that need more shoring up. Yep, Fio spends half her outside time gathering firewood and the other half gathering rocks.
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Okay, Fiorella admits she went on a chocolate binge when she and friend Kaye met up in Central Market. After all, if one chocolate concoction is delicious, why not make it two?

Fio In Survival Mode

ANGER, ANGER, ANGER! Fio was suckered into buying a Mac with the promise that she could also continue using her PC, but it turns out that isn't so without a great deal of stupid password and ID nonsense, which drives heri crazy. She knowsd the kids, all Mac fans, thought they were doing a good deed by luring Mom into the fold, but Mom is NOT happy, an she's very nervous about Elder Son flying back to Minnesota tomorrow--who will she turn to when she's locked out of her gmail again? Or when the strange delete arrangement eats up what she just wrote?

Son has been kind and patient, but the simple truth is that Fiorella is not an IT person and doesn't remember instructions well because there are so many of them and nothing makes any sense. She can decorate the hell out of a house or a yard, manage a check book like a pro, write wonderful twisted plots, and maintain friendships for decades, but she struggles in the digital world.

Fio will do her best to make a friend of this MacAir thing, which Son chose with love and care, but it has sharp edges which bite into her wrists, there's no division in the box at the bottom of the screen, and there's an annoying line of colorful icons running at the bottom of the screen.

In catch-up news, Son ate every crumb of the pound cake Fiorella baked a while back so she figures it was at least passing. Hmm...there are a couple of boxes of gingerbread cake mix in la despensa too.

Another catch up--remember when Fio's HOA was all het up about the possibility of non-residents driving through the neighborhood? Well, they lost that battle and not only is a pass-through road being built between our neighborhood and the one next door, but the low-water crossing is going to be enlarged and raised to street level. Fio applauds both actions, even though the bridge will be on her property.

Sweet Dreams

Fiorella will sleep well tonight because she loves the world, or at least her own cozy part of it. Not only did Son devote his entire day to manually migrating all her data from Isadora, who is of the PC familia, to her new Mac, but her wonderful neighbors, Michael and Kathy, appeared late in the afternoon with their pick-up and tractor and took down the koi pond. It was no easy job, and Fio was not as much help as she wished she could have been.                                       
On top of it off, they also piled all the flagstones--probably about a hundred of them, by the side of the fence for Fio to use in making a raised path off the back porch to combat the erosion. And just when Fio thought she had worn them out and they were getting ready to leave, they decided to take one of the barbecues that Fio was trying to unload. By then, it was so dark that Fiorella raced inside to turn on the outside lights, but Michel and Kathy they were still going strong.
With friends and family like these, who wouldn't sleep well? (heart emoji, which a Mac apparently doesn't have)

From Springtime to Flint

The green carpet of springtime is dappled by yellow and blue and white and pink flowerets everywhere Fio looks--and steps. Yes, hauling a little red wagon full of rocks to the road, where her open car trunk awaits, is not conducive to maintaining the innocent beauty of nature.
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OMG, Fio didn't realize she'd become a computer addict, but she was totally unerved when Elder Son seized control of her PC for the last day and a half. To make it worse, it took a long, nail-biting time to link su computadora with the new Mac, and Son had to involve Apple trouble-shooters all the way up the line to a senior tech-support guy.
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Fiorella's gotten away with skipping steps her whole life, and the digital world won't let her do that. Stupid technology!
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In the morning, Fio hauled rocks. In the evening, she drove over to Home Depot and bought twenty metal staves to get a start on closing up the gap in the fence on the north fence. Her next step is to buy the appropriate rolls of fencing. And to get Son to help her mark off the fence line with a compass, although he doesn't know that yet.
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With bowed head, Fiorella confesses that she, who keeps talking about downsizing, found two big beautiful chunks of black flint while she was out pacing the fence and brought them back to the house. Don't tell anyone.


 

Chocolate, Trump, Dog, Politics, Paperwork

Fio's relationship with chocolate is a variation of veni, vidi, vici--not came, saw, conquered, but saw, bought, digested. There are other ways to handle stress than reaching for a chocolate bunny, but Fiorella's neighbors get unerved if she has a shrieking fit in the back yard.
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Donald Trump and Alex Jones
Brothers under the skin--
Heartless liars whose only joy
Is watching the profits roll in
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The vet says Sonia dog weighs 124 pounds. Ah,124 pounds--those were the days.
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Fio's hearing that because of the tribal division in the Senate, Trump cannot be evicted for two more years, but she's hoping unexpected events will speed up his departure before he screws up the country--and the world--more than he already has.
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Gotta look through all the insurance paperwork again to make sure nothing got missed. Who knows what Fiorella's future holds?

Harried, but Happy

Given that Fio is the offspring of a thrifty woman who cut up her husband's cast-off tennis pants to make a charming Christmas dress for their daughter, do you really think she will let Husband's wardrobe go to waste?
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Hold on for a rough ride. In relation to the continued imprisonment and hazy future of The Children,  Fiorella referred to Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal," a satire in which he suggested that starving Irishers sell their children to the rich to be cooked up for dinner. THAT should light up Faceook!
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That Apple computer that Elder Son bought for Fio arrived yesterday afternoon, and he's been hard at work on it ever since. Apparently, just like all computers, it's tricky, but Fiorella's sure he will have it behaving by the time he flies back to Minnesota. (Otherwise, it's off to Click she goes.)
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Dang it--Fiorella's really on a chocolate binge, and it has to stop before she's not able to wear husband's T-shirts and pullovers anymore!
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The best part of Friday was when friend Suzy called Fio. There's nothing like spilling one's guts to an old, trusted friend. We know each other's stories inside and out, and we haven't let a little thing like the Atlantic Ocean come between us.

Yet More Aftermath

Fio went outside to kick the dregs of an aural migrain and spotted her little red wagon, the one she'd loaded up with rocks last week. Obviously. she had no choice but to unload them around the weak side of the drive near the front porch, so she set to doing so while Sonia Dog took a snooze on the concrete drieway near the garage.
"Husband's going to be surprised when he gets back home and sees what I've done," she  thought, then remembered Husband wasn't coming home this time, that the only male in the house for yet another blessed week was Elder Son, who had driven down to Cedar Creek to visit with his brother for the afternoon.
As Fio walked toward the porch, having finished off the rocks, she noticed the dead  bird, a cedar waxwing that Son had pointed out yesterday and was still drying out on top of the air conditioner unit so she maneuvered him onto a solid piece of bark and walked him through the house to for deposit in the soft comfort of the Kleenex-filled trash can. Hope he and Husband, who was a stalwart bird watcher, can find each other in their new dimension.

Fiorella Is Tired and a Bit Grouchy

Knives, watches, belt buckles, books, coins, fountain pens--Husband collected them all, and it's up to Fio to be sure each one of them ends up in the right hands. Sigh.
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Hey, hey--Fiorella has listed all the street-number addresses she has lived at in her life and come up with this chart, which seems to possess an overabundance of "nines." Numeralogists, have at it!
   249
 2609
   809A   
  4907
 l1508
  9907
    141
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When Fio awakens in the morning, the first thing she does is exercise her fingers by practicing piano scales in the air against the light of dawn. Not that she has time to play the piano anymore.
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Yes, Fio houses her computer under the couch. Do you seen any other surfaces available around the room?
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To tell the truth, Fiorella is looking forward to taking control of her own life. It would be nice if she could do more of what she wants to do, not just what she needs to do.

All Over the Place

In less than two weeks, Elder Son has helped Fiorella dispose of Husband's shelves of about a hundred vidoes (for which Half Price Books paid $38), gotten a good start on the garage, spent many hours talking back and forth with the funeral home and the manufacturer of the grave marker, accompanied her as muscle to the probate lawyer, held her hand as she waded through insurance claims, encouraged her to get the dry wall repaired over the kitchen sink and in the corner of a closet, driven her down to Cedar Creek and to Austin to visit granddaughter, spentdays supervising the repair and sale of Husband's riding mower, fixed her old computer, and helped her buy a new one.
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Wait a minute, Fio--did you say that Son helped you buy a new computer? What about Isadora de la Computadora, your fifty-dollar eBay deal?
I'm planning use the new member of the family to write--and revise--my stories without fear of erasure, but I will keep Isadora as back-up to do anything I won't know how to do on the new one. 
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Um...did Fio mention that she's also planning to hit Son up to help her reset the autimatic sprinkler system out front, which has gone mysteriously ka-blooey? And before he leaves next week, Fio wants to line him up for a nostalgic drive-by of all the houses she has lived in since she was married. Only four of them are still extant, and Son has lived in only two of them, the ones in the middle.
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Changing the subject completely, Fiorella is NOT happy with the results of Beleza's expensive botox injections. Her left eyebrow is still reaching for the ceiling.
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Another subject change: the husband of one of Fiorella's grade-school friends has died, and Fio has contacted her by FB Messenger and offered condolences and her phone number. She only hopes to be as helpful to Judith as everyone has been to her.

Son, Baking, Home Depot, Fencing, Schedule

Fio has to watch her P's and Q's from now on. She just learned that Elder Son reads her blog.
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Calling upon her inner chinchiness, Fiorella, who hasn't baked in years, could not let that box of pound cake mix go to waste, even though all indications were that it had been in her pantry since she moved into the house. Setting the oven to 360, she started gathering the ingredients, making a few substitutes along the line according to what was left in the refrigerator and pantry. She also had to line the cake pan with foil instead of floured cooking spray. The results may be inedible, but what the heck--it's just an experiment, and Fiorella won't starve. She has a cache of Russell Stover chocolate bars stowed away in the bottom cupboard.
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Home Depot let Fio down. She walked through the door with the determination to buy at least thirty feet of what she assumed would be very expensive fencing to keep los armadillos out of her iron plants this spring, but after being directed TWICE to the wrong areas of the store, she discovered--on her own--that rolls of chain link were all that the store carried. If you're wondering, armadillos burrow, so chain link fencing is no deterrent.
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To continue the story, Fiorella walked to her car and started driving to H-E-B for groceries. Something about the song of the road inspired her, and she started muddling over how to make her own fence. Staves--she needed metal staves spaced three inches apart. They could be soddered together by a rail across the top and another one six inches up from the bottom, and they'd have to be sold in four or five foot segments to be wieldy. Anybody out there want to manufacture an armadillo fence for Fio?
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Fio likes the way women stick together. She's heard from old friends and new since the word got out that her husband had died, and her social schedule is filling up fast.
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From Junk Drawer to Masscre

Contratulate Fio--she got one of the junk drawers cleaned out. Most of its contents--the mousetraps, the bent tacks, the unknowns--got dumped into the garbage can, and the remainders--the scissors, ties, rolls of tape, and the like-- are neatly arranged in their own open easy-access containers. Heady with her success, Fiorella is now considering making a pound cake, which she hasn't done in ages and never thought she would do again.
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Fio is also sorting through her paperback romances--two sets of floor-to-ceiling shelves--to get rid of the ones who don't move her anymore. Her tastes have changed over the years, and she now prefers deeper, more tangled plots. Also more reality.
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Sonia Dog goes to the vet this week. She's due for a check-up, and Fiorella has just today noticed a lump on Doggie's left breast area. Hoping it's just a giant mosquito bite.
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Elder Son has gone out into the garage to try to bring some order to Husband's haven of whatever-he- didn't-want-to-throw-away so Fio has sneaked over to the TV and muted the sound. She enjoyed Star Wars, lo, these many years agao, but it doesn't move her on the rerun. Again, she's become a reality- kind of gal.
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This blog would not be complete without mentioning the horrible massacre in New Zealand. Fiorella is sick to the heart about it. Why do people want to hurt other people, especially people they don't even know? Especially people who are at a peaceful place of worship? Is it BECAUSE they are unknown? Is it BECAUSE they are at peace?

From Insurance to Bluebonnets

Fio is still slushing through the paperwork required by insurance companies and the technicalities of getting the grave marker composed and "settled in." Then there is Chase Bank, which has gone wonky on her--sigh. All in all, the Treasury people are going to have to wait a l-o-n-g time before she gets around to them this year.
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The highlight of Fiorella's day was when she and Elder Son drove into Austin and met up with Daughter, Younger Son, and Granddaughter. Baby is two years, two months now, and a ball of energy, but she's still wary of her grandmother. Fio can only imagine that it was the same for her when she was two years old and the family viisted her father's family in Pennsylvanis, but her grandmother still loved her.
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'Tis time to winnow out Fiorella's collection of paperback romances so she's started skimming through them to see which ones still resonate. Strangely, it's mostly the older British ones.
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Has Fio told you that she's considering exchanging her PC for an Apple? First, she needs to try one out, of course. Elder Son is saying it would be an easy switch, but Fiorella has her doubts.
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Bluebonnets are popping up on the sides of the highways now, but while Fio has spotted some wanna-be patches along her north driveway, only two flowers plants have budded so far. Will keep you in the loop.

Leaping Through Fiorella's Frazzled Mind

Fiorella is a strange, awful, wonderful person, and you can't expect more from her than that.
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Has she told you about her plans for not only straightening out the fence around the  backyard, but for finishing-off the fencing of the northeast corner of the property? Transom, anyone?
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Fiorella, who's still treading the earth because of the miracles of modern medical devices, hauled out her new pacemaker monitor, spent about an hour wading through about twenty pages of information, explanation, and instruction, then concentrated on the picture diagrams to hook the thing up and record her heartbeats, which were immediately transmitted to the mother ship in Austin. Sje was quite satisfied with herself until she went downstairs and looked at her calendar. The check-up was scheduled for April, not March. Oops.
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When (and if) she dies, Fio doesn't want her family burdened by her personal stuff so she hereby announces that they are free to sling it far and wide. Yep--Fio, who likes herself, wants her DNA to be spread across the world.
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WHY DO PEOPLE KILL EACH OTHER BECAUSE OF DIFFERING RELIGIOUS BELIEFS? The Catholics and the Protestants, the Christians and the Muslims, the Hindus and the Bhuddists, ad inifinitum? In fact, why do people kill each other at all?

Confessions and Considerations

Beauty alert! Fiorella checked into her on-and-off med-spa to get her forehead wrinkles botoxed, and this may be the last time. Fio has a limit, not to only to her her beauty aspersions, but to her bank account.
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Okay, she admits it--on the way home, she dropped in at Walgreens for a Russell Stover chocolate bunny and ate it on the way home, pretty well guaranteeing that this will be a GERD night.
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Fiorella waited till Son had left the premises before trying out the new printer, and IT WORKS. She ran off seven pages of instructions from her long-suffering accountant, and  then, gathering her courage, tossed almost 300 pages of a writer friend's new manuscript into the printer's gaping maw to check it out.
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Across-the-street widow Charlene, whose husband died at Thanksgiving, paid Fiorella a visit today, and, of course, Fio couldn't stop talking. Hoping she didn't scare Neighbor away. 
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Com to think of it, a fair number of the people who live in this area are over the sell-by mark. There may be a landslide in the offing--at least for the men.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Turnabout

Talk about an overused reference--if Fiorella hears one more thing or person being called iconic or legendary, she will s-c-r-e-a-m.
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Your faithful reporter has shed her Gretal persona and has rejoined the chain gang. Yes, she's piling rocks in her little red wagon and hauling it up to the hill to shore up the driveway again.
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WOW! Fio thought the funeral home money-grab was over--after all, payng for the grave marker was all that remained, and that shouldn't cost much, right? WRONGO! Try 4K on for size! Son saved the day by finding a less expensive marker on line, but Fio's still going to be paying through the nose.
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Should Fiorella shell out whatever she has left in the tatters of her bank account to buy a new computer? Does she dare consider a Mac? Friends have told her the switchover from a PC is difficult and, as you know, Fio is not a technological wunderkind. Hmmm....maybe she could get hold of a Mac on a trial basis.
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Don't tell anyone, but Fio has an appointment to get her forehead botoxed. Yes, she knows it's a stupid thing for someone who's worried about money to do, but she's tired of su frente looking like a washboard.
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What Day Is It?

Oops, Fiorella messed up again, and the post you'll read tomorrow will be the one she wrote for today so now she'll tell you about today. 

Fio started the day without her morning newspaper, which irritated her immensely because it's hard for her to function without her comic strips and anagrams. Not only that, but Facebook acted like she was a foreign invader and wouldn't let her post any of her trademark scintillating comments.
*
But she couldn't let the rejection get to her because Wednesday is Drive-to-Austin Day and Fio had scheduled three meet-ups, the first at 10:00 at Starbucks with friend Evelyn, the second at 11:30 at Dan's North with brother and Friend Paula, the third at 1:30 with friend Joan at Dan's South. Unfortunately, what she hadn't scheduled was the on-and-off rain, a parade of HUGE trucks monopolyzing the highway, and two automobile wrecks, all of which made her fifteen minutes late for Starbucks. Luckily, friend Evelyn forgave her.
*
Although Fio may have seemed a little wild-eyed by then, her rondevous with Bill and Paula, then Joan, came off well, but the drive home was rampant with daredevil drivers. Also, someone had wonked Fio's passenger-side side mirror, and she didn't realize it until she was on the highway.
*
Coming back to the house, Son taught Fio how to use her new double-duty printer. He also tried to help her get back on Facebook, but it was a no-go--even though she's never posted anything negative about Zuckerberg...yet.
*
Hey, hey! She  just tried the stupid FB again and was able to post!

What Happens After the Burial?

It's been more than two months since Husband died, and he's still receiving solicitations from life insurance companies. Fio, of course, has the urge to fill all those forms out, send off the first payment, then report Husband's death--the extra cash sure would help out around Casa Fiorella. The probate lawyer is costing $3000, and Fio is not looking forward to the bill for the grave marker. To make things worse, Social Security has swiped a chunk out of the joint bank account, which doesn't seem fair because even thtough Husband is no longer sitting at the table, the electric, water, and heating bills still have to be taken care of, the dog has to be fed, the garbage picked up, and the mortgage paid.
*
Your Fio is running around like a chicken with her head cut off. She has a long list, and it's being added to every day. She's learned just now that she can't drive the old printers up to the side of the road and unload them for some enterprising techie to take home and fiddle with, but instead, has to drive them over to Best Buy (not her favorite store) for recycling.
*
Older Son has been a real help, but he knows too much--like that the riding mower needs to have new tires before being put up for sale. Fio would have innocently pawned it off on someone as dumb as she is.
*
On the plus side, you will be glad to hear that Fio, without mishap, ran the dishwasher herself this afternoon. On the negative side, she still doesn't know how to use the new double-decker printer or Husband's old Tablet and, even though Son has  been coaching her on expanding her email skills, she's still shaky. The double negative is that there's still the three-car garage to clean up.
*
Fiorella has seen a lot of movies in which people die, but she doesn't remember any of the survivors having to deal with this overwheming an aftermath.

Lots of Things Going On

What a day! Nephew and his wife kindly took what seemed like half a ton of CDs off Fiorella's hands, delivered the BBQ smoker to the neighbors for her, and spent a lovely couple of hours visiting with her and Minnesota Son. They also gave Fio some ideas about how she can pick up a few bucks on some of the other stuff lying around the house.
*
The county is putting in a new bridge at the foot of Fio's property soon, and she's both thrilled and concerned. Thrilled that she won't be house-bound by an overflowing "dry" creek anymore and concerned because of the mess the construction will make.
*
Fio thought Nephew and his wife's visit would be the highlight of her day, but then she received a call from a childhood friend and they stayed on the line forever exchanging family information and their lives. There's a warmth in getting together with someone who's known you since way back when.
*
Darn! Fiorella missed Saturday Night Live again--not that she ever watches the whole show. Like Colbert's opening monolog, the cold opening is enough for her. Both of them make her laugh, and then she drifts off to sleep smiling.
*
What's on your schedule for today Fio? Aside from grocery shopping and getting my blood checked out, not much--just learning how to use my new double-duty printer, trying to get Kindle to release the books I damn well paid for, helping son clean out the garage, contacting someone for dry wall work in the kitchen and upstairs closet, paying bills, reviewing tax information my accountant sent me a months ago but which my old printer couldn't deliver, and handing over a fat check to my probate lawyer. Colbert better be good tonight!

Hello, Springtime!

Fiorella made the big transition last night from heavy robe to lightweight wrapper. Yes, winter is past tense and she's going to walk the driveway to see if her blubonnets are budding like the ones along the highway are.
*
Ah, there's nothing like a good night's sleep after an exhausting walk around a dinosaur park with Bastrop Son y su familia. Granddaughter (nieta) is still not sure about this woman who trails into her two-year-old life every now, and then, but loves dinosaurs.
*
That weight-lifting is paying off. Fio was able to transfer two heavy printers--black-and-white and color--into her little red wagon all on her own. The next step will be to haul them up onto the roadside, where she hopes some enterprising techie will find a use for their parts, but that final trip will be made by car.
*
But Fio, why are you ditching your printers?  Because the black-and-white won't perform and the color printer is clunky. A trip to Best Buy with Minnesota Son supervising Fiorella's choice--a printer that does double duty--was the only answer.
*
Be on the alert! Minnesota Son has taught Fiolla how to transfer photos onto her blog in eight easy steps!

Auld Lang Syne

All in all, Fiorella has now cleared  six yards of Husband's music CDs from the shelves in the den and packed them in bags and boxes to give to Nephew. Ten years ago, Fio could have made a fortune off them, but now digital downloads have taken over. Fortunately, Nephew likes old hat.
*
It's odd to glance over at the empty shelves, another reminder that Husband did not make it home from the hospital this time. Sometimes Fio feels guilty because, in effect, she is wiping one of the most important things in his life off the map, but it is essential that she lighten the footprint of the house as quickly as possible. After all, she can't stay out here alone in the boondocks forever.
*
Fio is downsizing not only the house, but herself. She "makes do" as much as possible and doesn't buy anything that isn't necessary. Financially, she's okay so far, but who knows what will happen tomorrow?
*
Speaking of finances, Fiorella had an appointment with a probate lawyer on Thursday, and judging by the retainer she's shelling out, probate lawyers lead very comfortable lives.
*
Su hijo mayor has lightened Fio's burden in all sorts of ways, among them, doing something magic to the stove burners so that they fire up again and showing her the trick to sounding the panic button on Husband's car (which even Husband didn't know how to use).

Sorry about the delay. Was searching everywhere for my vampire story. Finally found it on the machine.

Tally huddled in the far corner of the back seat of the cab returning her to the ferry terminal.  It reminded her of her first trip to New York four years ago, covered with a dark sheet and curled up in the back seat of a limousine with heavily tinted windows.  She had been seventeen then, confused and alone, heading toward the only sanctuary she knew.  Now she was twenty-two, confused and alone, with no sanctuary in sight.

            So, Helen had been right on the money about the effects of sexual excitement.  Tally looked at her nails.  There was blood beneath them.  Well, at least she hadn't bitten him.  But the thought of it made her hunger surge again, almost painful in its intensity.  She pressed one hand to her stomach and studied the cabbie's thick, fleshy neck.  He seemed like such a lout.  Would anyone really miss him?

            No, Tally, you have a choice!  Even louts have families who need them.

            She breathed slowly and deliberately, trying to calm herself.  She could handle this; she had prepared for such emergencies.  Methodically she searched in her purse for a small silver flask, unscrewed the lid, and lifted it to her lips.  She sipped slowly, rolling the dark liquid on her tongue before letting it slide down her throat.  With all the insulation, the flask couldn't hold much, but it was enough.

            She licked her lips and smiled in satisfaction.  God bless anti-coagulants.

            The cab driver's eyes followed her in the rear-view mirror.

            "Just for emergencies," she called gaily from the darkness of the back seat, with what she hoped was a jaunty smile.

            He didn't reply but his eyes snapped back to the road again.  She took one more sip. Why had she thought she had to explain herself to him?  So what if some loutish cab driver thought she was an alcoholic?  He'd probably seen a lot worse--and at least he wasn't dead! 

Running late
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Starting With a Contrary Cow

When Fiorella drove past the neighborhood cattle ranch recently, she noted that all the cows were facing the same direction as they industriously cropped the springtime grass--all but one, that is, who was catty-corner to the others. Wonder if her nick-name is Fio.
*
Fiorella was having lunch in Austin when hijo mayor got dropped off at the door, but he had his own key and by the time Fio got home, he'd spiffed up the riding lawn mower and put it up on eBay.
*
With Son accompanying her, Fiorella will talk to a probate lawyer this morning. Husband left her everything in his will, but that apparently isn't good enough for Uncle Sam. Fio feels like she's in a carnival funhouse and can't get out.
*
Fio's glancing through thebooks in her floor-to-ceiling bookcase to figure out which ones to keep and which ones to donate to her local RWA (Romance Writers of America). Her taste has changed over the years, of course. She liked harder-hitting books now, ones with a purpose.
*
And yes, after a four-year lull, Fio plans to start turning out books head over foot, and she hopes you will buy them, not only because it would be nice for her to have a few extra shekels lying around, but because she has important things to say that she thinks everyone should hear.

Fiorella Has Hopes and Plans

One thing Fiorella has been able to accomplish in the middle of the chaos is the reorganization of la despensa (the pantry) to suit her own needs and arranged everything to her own convenience. The bottom shelf is now for storage of plastic bags, paper towels, and the like. The next shelf up is devoted to dog goodies and grooming, Above that is Fiorella's shelf, which is at just the right height for her, and the fourth shelf will be for Son when he arrives today, while the top shelf is for the storage of plastic containers that often prove useful.
*
On the negative side, Fio is still sludging through the mud on the finances and may have lost an insurance policy. She's also behind on thank-you notes. And laundry.
*
The good news is that all of Husband's CDs will have appreciative homes. Fiorella sent a shoebox stuffed full of classical music home to friend Raquel's son, and nephew Barrett will take the rest of the collection off Fio's hands. And did she tell you that neighbor Michael has offered to fill in her outdated koy pond in return for the flagstones built up around it? She'll probably take him up on his offer later in the spring.
*
As soon as she knows what her finances will be like, Fio wants to straighten and extend the backyard chainlink fence. Also to build a retaining wall to keep the sloping back yard from ending up in the dry creek a couple of yards behind the fence. and, in the front yard, Fio is contemplating protecting her iron plants from the inevitable armadillos by installing a removable metal fence.
*
Fiorella has noticed that las piedras along the driveway need shoring up again, which means that as soon as the weather clears, she'd better be trundling her little red wagon out onto the acreage and loading it up. She's spotted some good rock sites further into the woods.

Strictly Fiorella

Fiorella puts her watch on first thing every morning so she can get a-tickin', but sometimes she doesn't want to arise, arise, shine. She's had to do all her life--get up for school, for work, to take care of the house and the family, and now that she's all alone, you'd think she'd get a break. But Sonia Dog and her own urinary tract think otherwise.
*
Fio has narrowed her interests as she has gotten older. Obviously, running hurdles in the Olymipics is off the table, but Fiorella was never much of an athlete anyway. She's also lost interest in being rich and famous. Wealth comes with all sorts of complications, and fame is a two-edged sword. Strangely, she isn't that interested in food any more either--not that she ever cooked that much, but she did eat a lot more at one time. Now she just wants to write, be artsy, play around with langauges and music, and hang out with friends and family.
*
Elder Son is scheduled for a Wednesday arrival this week so Fiorella is scurrying around the house and trying to get everything in order, which is a bit difficult at trhe moment because she's bound and determined to down-size, down-size, downsize. La despensa (the pantry) has undergone a total overhaul, and los estantes, cajones y armarios (shelves, drawers, and cabinets) in the kitchen are next in line.
*
Fio filled two trash bags with Husband's collection of herbs, spices, sauces, and the like. Her cooking is minimal, the kids have already taken what they could use, and food closets don't accept anything that has been opened.
*
Whew--it looks like Fio is half through the legal stuff. She's paid off the funeral home, squared herself with the bank and the car insurance people, sent off her claims to the insurance companies, and this week, she'll meet with a probate attorney. Now if she could just remember where she put the list of the people she should have written a thank-you note to a month ago.
*
Did Fiorella tell you that she is trying to cut way back on chocolate and cookies? Yesterday was her first "dry" day, and it was hard, but she's determined to take off those five pounds she's put on since the Christmas candy hit Walgreens. (It'll give her leeway for Easter.)

4 Scorpions and a Confession

Flipping on the front room light this morning, Fio spotted an adult-size scorpion casually crossing the concrete floor, which called for an immediate squash and flush. That makes two scorpions this week, and Fiorella is not pleased. When her family moved to Texas long, long ago,  her brother was stung by a scorpion sheltering in one of his shoes, which resulted in our mother instructing all of us to clap our shoes before we put them on, a precaution which Fio honors to this day.
*
Will Former Friend never stop providing primo fodder for your Fio to analyze? When FF posted about her ailing horse on Facebook recently, Fiorella suddenly realized that the only times FF goes public is when she's angry or depressed.
*
Fio has trained herself to avoid the "candy" and "seasonal" aisles at H-E-B, but when she dropped by Walgreens to pick up some thank-you cards, she also picked up a chocolate rabbit and four chocolate and marshmallow Easter cookies. Dang! Foiled by Russell Stover.
*
Trump enjoys stirring up blood fury at his rallies, and he's good at it. He could tell his audience to kill everyone around them, and they'd do it on the spot.
*
First thing in the morning, Fiorella rubs her face to see if she's still alive.
*

Visiting Nephew and Wife

Although, according to her cellphone, all Fiorella needed was twenty-six minutes, she gave herself a full hour to make to Austin and locate the home of Nephew and Wife--but she was still twenty minutes late. She'd tried to follow her phone's directions, but it was hard to hear the speaker over the highway noise, and Fio didn't know how to get more volume, which resulted in her missing vital information and making a number of wrong turns.
*
Along the way, Fio saw a man in a raincoat walking two dogs across an intersection. The dogs looked like they would have rather stayed home, and the man did too. Misery loves company?
*
Fiorella's glasses moved on and off her nose the whole time she was on the road--on when she was driving, and off when she was tryng to read signs.  Yes, your girl needs bifocals, but she's been told the bridge of her nose is too high for them. La--guess that's one of the problems of an aristocratic bone structure.
*
Fio had a great time with Nephew and Wife, their three dogs, and the antique furniture they repair and sell, and she was delighted to learn that, like Fiorella, they think that everyone and everything wants to have a purpose.
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Fio made a point of  talking to Nephew and Wife about ancient family history--good, bad, and boring. It's part of us, whether we want it to be or not.

Personally Speaking

Fiorella gads around town in her Miata and uses the Mercedes to take the week's trash out to the curb. That's just how she rolls🤣
*
There's something spooky about your Fio. Apparently, she can control the traffic flow on I-35. Yesterday, when she was driving down the southbound side to meet with friend Jane MP at Fish Daddy's, the flow on the northbound side ran at top speed, while the flow on her side slowed to a stop several times. Then, when she drove home, the southbound side ran at top speed while the northbound flow slowed and came to a stop several times. Hmm....
*
The stupid Austin Anmerican-Statesman screwed up its delivery system again, and Fiorella had to drive six miles into town to buy a newspaper, which made her very angry. She NEEDS that paper every morning to get her motor running. To be more exact, she needs the funnies and the anagrams. The rest of the paper can "sink into the ocean."
*
Hey, hijo mayor--the local feed store had two riding mowers out in its yard last week, but now it only has one. Prime time to sell off the old mower?
*
It's hard to clean out Husband's desk because Fio doesn't know which items were more meaningful to him and should be saved.

Morning Prayer

Help me, Lord, by your grace,
To make the world a better place
Every day in every way
By what I do and what I say