It's been one of those days that try a widow's soul. Son L and Fiorella met with their realtor, who had a to-do list a mile long that involved a fair amount of expense. At the same time, her cranky printer decided to take a Thanksgiving holiday, which meant your girl couldn't run off a particularly vital email. And it was too late to drive into town and pick up the graph paper she needed for her brother's Turkey Time birthday present.
The highlight in her otherwise bleak day was that Son showed her how to check her gas tank which, thank goodness, is still three-quarters' full.
Speaking of the new car, one of Fiorella's more overwhelming assignments is to train Doggie to ride in the back seat. You'll remember that several months ago, Sonia burst through the restraints and rode high, wide, and handsome in the front seat, then totally swore off car rides when Mommy had to do stupid things like stop for red lights, which toppled Doggie to the floor.
Back to the realtor, realtor Mallary has asked Fio to pack away the old, worn Persian rug that's been part of Fiorella's life for twenty years. Sure, it's thread-bare and faded, but so is Fio. Doesn't character count anymore?
Whatever, Fiorella wishes you a HAPPY, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
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