Sorry to be late. Fio was rushing around, doing all the morning things. when the fire in the fireplace suddenly flared into full bloom. She'd been half-expecting it because of the mutterings she'd been hearing from the banked coals, but she'd hoped she'd have time to gather new firewood from the front room stack beforehand.
So, instead of sitting down with a mug of hot chocolate, she had to grab the newspaper, tear it to shreds and knot the mangled remains into breakfast for the Lord of Fire. Under pressure, she wasn't as careful as she should have been and accidentally tore up the pages with the comics featuring the comics and anagrams, then had to go back through the mess to find them.
Sometime I feel like Lucille Ball reincarnated.
*
Met with friends Carol and Ashley at Starbucks yesterday and solved the problems of the world, then, as we left, stalked a tall, gorgeous guy dressed like a male model and toting a gun in his holster vest. Yep, old ladies can do that sort of thing and get away with it. Fio was all for interviewing him, but Cutie Pie went into the side entrance of the restaurant next door and sat down with a table of craggy-faced uniformed guys who looked like they wouldn't stand for any nonsense so we retreated. Besides, it was starting to rain.
*
Aside from keeping the fire going, what are you going to do today, Fiorella? Well, what I'm planning to do is add more to the Christmas decor, set up a time for my yardman to come by and help me put up swags of tinsel along the driveway, take gifts around to my friends at Mazda, Click, and Chase, and work on the sonnet, which is not as near finished as I thought it was. What about you?
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