Fiorella has bounced up out of the doldrums again. Daughter dropped by with groceries and stayed to talk, to show Fio how to use her Boom Box, and to check on the Mercedes, which (thank-you, God) is not about to fall apart after all.
If Fio could re-do her life, she'd make better choices, but at this point, she'd like to have a well-heeled, silver-haired Prince Charming fall in love with her and set her up to do nothing but read, write, paint, compose, learn languages, and make the world a better place. Yep, Fiorella is tired of spending her days cleaning the house and filling cardboard boxes with relics of her former life.
Interesting. Fiorella's high school graduating class held a reunion recently, but, from what Fio has heard, only about thirty graduates, mostly Trumpsters, showed up. Wondering how many of them will be able to show up at the next reunion. Sad.
The dawn gets darker every day/ As autumn winds command the breeze/ Swooping in like birds of prey/ And rattling all the trees
Fio is either/ A loner or leader/ Never an/ In-betweener
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