Change of Season

It's officially summer as far as Fiorella is concerned. She's exchanged her slacks and blue jeans for shorts and adjusted the air conditioning to 68.
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Sonia Dog gets a lot more sleep than Fiorella does. In fact, Doggie spends most of her time snoring on the couch while Fio is up'n at'em by 8:00 a.m. and doesn't stop till 9:00 p.m., sometimes 10:00. First off, she contacts the kids so they know she's still alive, then opens up the house, feeds the dog and herself (in that order), reads the newspaper, communicates with friends and fans, clears out sections of the house, pays bills, wrestles with the whims of technology, works on what she is writing at the time, locks up the house again, gets ready for bed, and turns on TV to catch the evening news.
     Why is it then, that Sonia has a trimmer figure and more stamina than yours truly?
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Fio's been advised that Blogger is going to change to a new format, which may leave your girl floating in Neverland. She doesn't handle changes well so this may be her death knell. (Hey, that rhymes!)
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This morning, when Fiorella walked through her trees gathered in front of the house, she did her best to listen to them, which she had never done before. The rocks, she understood because they called out to be picked up and be placed where they would be useful, but the trees, she'd always thought, were uncaring.
     However, in the last couple of month, los arboles have asserted themselves as the beings they are, and now Fio cannot walk through their clusters without feeling their their warmth and love.
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Fiorella hides her bag of chocolate behind the milk so she won't see it every time she opens the refrigerator. Don't laugh--her system works.
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