Has Fio tried to skip a day again? Probably so, because it's been a very busy day. Yes, you guessed it--Son L drove her to FedEx and, after what seemed like an interminable wait (although it was only about forty-five minutes), her 100 Christmas cards were born. There were a few scratches, but one can't expect perfection on a rush job.
Now to write a nice semi-personal note inside each card, sign them, seal them, pick up a hundred stamps at the already-swamped post office, toss the cards in the communal mail box, and pray that all goes well. Whew--your girl is exhausted already.
Keep it a secret, but Fiorella is mulling over the idea of walking up and down her street, knocking on doors and giving out her Christmas cards. With the pandemic still at full-speed ahead, it may be the only way she'll have to get acquainted with her neighbors--also to impress them. After all, not every block on the street has not only an artist, but a full-fledged poet on the premises.
Sorry, but your girl has to leave now. It's past nine (p.m.) and she needs to get a good night's sleep if she's going to be addressing a mountain of envelopes tomorrow.
GOOD NIGHT, SLEEP TIGHT, DON'T LET THE BEDBUGS BITE!
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