It's the twenty-third, and Fiorella has "gone about as fer as she can go" regarding the parlor today--you'll remember that she's been working like a dog to make it a music/art/display room for the whole family plus visitors. Hoping she can finish it off tomorrow, but it may take a couple of days more.
No snow on the ground, of course, but it felt like an early Christmas when Fio was out at the curb and the man across the street came over and gave her a holiday greeting again.
Did Your girl tell you that she was going through a box of things from Christmases past and found some holiday songs she'd composed? None of them made it to whatever passes for the Hit Parade nowadays, but they warmed her heart--and made her wonder if she could write a couple more songs for Christmas next year. Hmm...
If you heard somebody hammering a nail in the wall above Fiorella's bed, she herself was the perpetrator. Yep, instead of whining around until Son L had time to affix the picture of his grandmother's first-place win in that long-ago spelling bee your girl keeps talking about, she hunted down a yard stick and used it to determine where she should drive in the a nail so that the new picture would be vertically even with a picture above it, AND IT WORKED!
The house is quiet now--everyone in the house seems to have gotten themselves tucked in for the night so if you'll excuse her, Fio will close up shop, say her prayers, and go to bed.💗💗💗
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