Good-by to the Old and Hello to the New!

 Whoopeeeee! Your girl has started collecting the names of everyone who sent her a Christmas card this year so that she can send out her own Christmas card out later, a card which will tell everyone not only what she is doing, but why she is doing it.

In the meantime, as Christmas fades away to New Year's Eve, Fiorella is quite pleased about her readjustment to the big city (Austin) and that the newspaper delivery problem has been solved, but she still has trouble with transportation.

Personally, her bad knee is still in need of treatment, her glasses are about ten years old, and her throat sounds like a gargling garbage disposal. There are a few other minor problems that a good doctor could probably take care of in a session or two, but your girl doesn't know which white coat (coats?) to turn to.

Son and wife have just welcomed onto the patio the backyard sectionals they've been mooning about ever since they walked into the house way back when, and it's lovely. Fio has already dubbed the couch.😌

Your girl is thinking of buying a big stuffed dog to sleep with her at night, but in the meantime,

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Distraction

 WHERE HAS FIO'S GROCERY LIST GONE? WHERE HAS THE SLIP OF PAPER ON WHICH SHE'S WRITTEN DOWN THE ADDRESS TO THE PHARMACY THAT RECYCLES USED PILL BOTTLES? They were here yesterday, but now, when she's ready to put them into action, she can't find either of them!

All's well that ends well--the slip of paper never showed up so your girl looked up the pharmacy in FaceBook , called friend Requal, and saved the day. Interestingly enough, Fio recognized the pharmacy when she saw it because she'd donated pill bottles there when she lived in Austin.

As soon as Fiorella got her land legs, Son L took her down the road to a look at new reading glasses. He himself was able to buy a nice pair out of some kind of bank from a former employer, but Fio held back not only because she likes her current frames, but because she's always had problems with the kind of lenses which were part of the package.  (Hopefully, someone can find a way to fix the situation.)   

 Hoorah! Son L was able to retrieve your girl's wedding silver and two sets of slippers from under her low-hanging bed, but couldn't locate her "good" eyeglasses. Oh, well, maybe next year....

For some reason, Fiorella is feeling down. Christmas let-down? Disappointed about what she didn't get done this year and dreading what the new year will bring? What do you think?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Awkwardly Proposing a Broadening of Fio's Content

 Now's the time to get started on your girl's New Year's project: enlarging her audience. Not that she has any idea of how many viewers she has, but whatever the number, she'd like to add to it--not just for her own amusement, but also, for yours.

However, right now, Fio's viewpoint is a bit muddled because she accidentally overdid her pills at Christmastide and has had to lay off them for the last two days. But all is well today--when Son L drove your girl in to the hospital today, her blood draw was just right.

Fiorella can't say the same about her glasses, which are about five years old and fading fast. Son took your girl to an eye glasses shop, but again, she was behind the times--there was no way she could just walk into the store as of old, sign in at the desk, then wait-wait-wait until it was her turn to follow the nice secretary into the doctor's haven anymore. In fact, the place Son took Fio to sported a layout of at least two-hundred pairs of glasses, but not a nice secretary in sight.

Back to Fiorella's intent to enlarge her audience: she'd like to be able post pictures too--probably of her paintings or other items she's made along the way. And by the way, it would be nice if those of you who know me well would contribute their own suggestions and opinions.

Ah, well--today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow. Fio just has to keep moving forward.

 

Christmas Backtracking

 OH DANG! Your un-brilliant Fiorella accidentally blotted out her messages for the day so now she'll have to not only admit to her stupidity, but start out all over again. So, her goes--

First on her list of complaints and most painful to her heart is that she has lost her mother's mink jacket--the one your girl and Husband bought for her when fur was THE THING and Mom could show it off in church.  Supposedly, the jacket is still extant in the house that Fiorella stayed in during THE snowstorm, but it will take a while for someone to find it. Meanwhile, your girl is shivering in a jeans outfit.

 To be exact, right now, Fio is trying to get her ultra-small bedroom somewhat into order. The three cork boards on her inside wall have been reduced to two, but will doubtless swell up again as more and more items are added to your girl's loot pile. Remember, Fiorella finds it hard to dispose of anything--and she can  usually find a place for whatever weird thing attracts her fancy.

Back to the cork boards: your girl has fallen in love with the photo of her Carpathian-Russine fraternal grandfather, a handsome, curly-haired young blond whose one-and-only photo she restored several years ago. At that time, she was restoring his outside, but now, she can't help but wonder about his inside and what he thinks about this bustling granddaughter of his.

Fiorella really likes her contributions to the family Christmas decorations this year--the cut-out bells and stars, the candelabra, the wreath, the Santa Clause in the doorway, etc, and hopes to preserve them all for next year....under her command, of course!

 

 

The Post Christmas Sonnet

Prayer of the Doubtful Magus

   Dear God, the night has passed, the day begun

 I wake to face the horror of the dawn--

The cold, blue sky and brazen, blazing sun

Obscure my view--the guiding star is gone.

    Last night the star was bright, the vision clear,

The pathway clear that I had sought yearlong--

I knew my god and Bethlehem were near--

So near at last--dear God, my faith was strong.

   But now my hope is gone; I cannot find my way

I feel a fool, as old men often are--

The dreams of night have been subsumed by day

And I--bereft, alone--I doubt the star....

     O God, dear God, I pray you yet again--

      Please, God, please let there be a God...amen 

 

i ca

Couldn't Christmas Last a Week or Two Longer?

 Merry Christmas to all, and Fiorella hopes you had a WONDERFUL Christmas Day. Fio herself spent half the day sorting through Christmas cards that she'd designed through the years  and wondering why some big company hadn't snatched her up. I mean, she is THAT good!

Now comes the take-down, of course---not of the tree yet, but on all the decorations that your girl has Scotch-taped onto doors and windows in her own realm....or like the red cardboard bells she attached to the extras a while ago--or at least to the ones that were complete with cardboard holly. 

Ahem...your girl has been known to also cut out some elegant cardboard stars, like years ago when she not only produced Little Red Riding Hood, but played the leading role--or has she mentioned her theatrical background a bit too often? (AHEM: Fio considers the wolf to be the leading character.)

Meanwhile. an interesting accumulation of a certain five-year-old's doll has taken over the left side of Fiorella's bed, and your girl isn't sure if she is supposed to welcome the throng with open arms or keep them safe in case the new dolls don't work out. Meanwhile, your girl is keeping her eye on her Santa Claus display in the front hall, which she'll keep into position for a while longer just to show off.

But the candelabra, which took a lot of work, can also stay up for a while. Besides, after The Baby is settled, the Wise Men will have to have some way to find their way back to their camels at night.

The Truth

Please forgive your Fio. She's been out front (translation: working on spreading her Christmas stories and trying to get herself more followers, which is somewhat ludicrous because she doesn't know how many she has or doesn't have right now. Never-the-less, she's hoping to bring former neighbors, schoolmates, and (uh) teacher-mates into her fold. Come on, people--all one has to do is pick up a computer and push a few buttons.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family is at the other mother-in-law's house. Dang--she's younger, prettier, and has more brothers and sisters than your girl does. Why did God stop Fio at three kids? (Actually, there was another another embrio, but he/she/they didn't make it more that about a month, and Fiorella still mourns the unknown.)

Back to today. Why didn't you go with Son L to the mother-in-law's family house, Fiorella? Because I've tried going with there time after time and still gotten the brush off (we apparently, we aren't simpatico) so I decided to stay at the house today and put my energy into my own Christmas card project, which may or may not succeed, but at least will make me feel useful.

 What makes those cards so important to you, Fio? I'm starving for companionship and am hoping someone--anyone--who gets one of my cards will continue corresponding with me on holidays etc., or maybe even visit me. 

When do you think your panic problem started? Probably when Husband got sicker and sicker, and then when he died, and then when Sonia Dog and I were isolated in the cold, cold house during the freeze, then then had a difficult rescue, then the moving into Mother-in-law's house for two months, then the house searching, the loss of her Sonia dog, the continuing loneliness. (Actually, my former maid is the best I can do for someone on my side, and I value her.)

 

Aspects of Christmas

    Christmas is a holiday of joy

When families gather around a bright-lit tree

To celebrate the Virgin's baby boy

And to enjoy each other's company

   Christmas is a holiday of caring

Of tending to the sad, the sick, the poor

Of opening up grateful hearts and sharing

Our bounty with the beggar at our door

   Christmas is a holiday of prayer

Of reverie and self-examination

A time to look within, become aware

To plumb the soul and seek illumination--

    A holiday of joy and caring and prayer

   God's gift of love to mankind everywhere.

Thank You, God....

 Fiorella is advancing in her plan to put together various of her poems to form a book, so if you're an agent or a publisher, or both, she's your gal. Here's today's Christmas poem:

Thank you, God, for friends and family,

For yesterday, today, tomorrow too,

For life and love and laughter, I thank Thee,

For all this wonderful, beautiful, new, and true,

For talents and skills and, oppportunity,

For the existance of this country and this world

For healing--body and mind  and memory,

For material goods, for inner strength unfurled,

For music and art, and pen, and poetry

For science, which demonstrates Your wonders made,

For your protection, comfort, generosity,

For your forgiveness, as when we've often strayed,

     For all that is, that was, that makes us whole, 

     For Christ, eternal Christmas of the soul💗

 

Copyright, JBB

INSTEAD!

 

HE COULD have come at the head of a howling horde,

a mob of wrathful demons recruited to scour

the earth and ravage it with fire and sword

in a full-court press to prove his might and power

HE COULD have loosed the rivers, burned the sky

melted mountains, destroyed the face of the moon

or swept the planet clean to purify 

it for a New Creation, coming soon

INSTEAD, he came as a child, a helpless babe

born in a stranger's stable on a death-cold night

with neither shield nor armored plate

to defend himself in the battle he was to fight

and win, as darkness always yields to light,

AS GOD PREVAILS, AND WRONG  MUST YIELD TO RIGHT!

 Copyright JBB

SUDDENLY!

 What happened? Is my poetry running out on me?

I will AGAIN write one of my poems for you...and hope that the anti-poetry pixie does not demolish it again....

 

Suddenly, the silence of the star-strewn night

Was broken by a newborn baby's cry

And choirs of joyful angel took to flight 

To spread the word to shepherds camped nearby--

Out of the East, three royal wisemen came 

To worship the baby born in a cattle shed,

A child who held no wealth or famous name,

Who was laid to sleep in a lowly manger bed

But nurtured and cared for as every child should be, 

Protected and valued, well clothed, well fed,

Not locked away in a prison of misery

By decrees devised by the vile and bigoted--

   Remember that God loves every child the same

   No matter its heritage, color, or family name 💗

From Dusk to Dawn

Somehow your girl erased her Christmas poem for the day, but she'll post it again and cross her fingers....

AH--HEM!

 

                                                    

                      Christmas Fire

The firewood salvaged from our fallen trees

We've dried and heaped upon the fireplace grate

To counteract the deep midwinter freeze

Which lowering temperatures now prognosticate--

Steel strikes flint, the tinder pile is lit,

A quick flame flashes, then is gently fed

Until the fire is burning bright and brisk,

Its fingers reaching high, its embers red--

Crackling and raging and roaring with each bite,

The hungry fire consumes the waiting wood,

But after we have gone to bed at night,

The flames burn out--untended, unrenewed--

     Yet warmth awakes us upon the morn--

     A Merry Christmas to all! The Christ is born!

 

Christmas Tatters

 You hoo, it's Fiorella, and she has a bee in her bonnet: what would you think of your girl starting up a TV talk show featuring....uh....more mature....visitors? We could find old friends and make new friends, give each other advice, and most of all, we could laugh and laugh and laugh.

OOOPS--Your girl intended to post the above question yesterday, but it still holds--even though she accidentally took an extra coumadin pill yesterday, which wasn't a good thing to do, but there aren't any ambulances lining up in the driveway so Fio is somewhat relieved. 

How did it happen, you ask? Well, your girl asked what day it was when she was journeyed so fast and furiously from one day/place to another--Walmart for Christmas cards, plus a few other things, then a horrendous visit to H-E-B which, of all things, was out of Shredded Wheat.

Of course your girl was late, late, late for her family gathering--and couldn't find her gift$ either. At the second family meeting, Fio had a good time until everyone grouped together and Son L decided Fio needed to rest in the very same small room she'd lived in during her escape from the Great Freeze of last year. (Or was it two years? Needless to say, her memories of nearly freezing to death are not what she chooses to be exact about.)

Changing the subject completely, Fiorella finds herself, as she looks around her bedroom, staring at a photo/portrait of her father's father when he was a young man coming to America. The picture was in bad shape when she first saw it years ago, but Fio restored it beautifully--if she dares saying so herself. 

Second Chance!

            Second Joseph

Awake, awake! Open up your eyes!

Awaken now! We must prepare to flee!

Come, Joseph, come, make hast! Make haste and rise!!

   While there is time--and opportunity!

Awake, awake, the dawn is blood-cold steel!

Make haste into the armor of the night!

I hear the distant hooves, a thunder peal--

  The storm draws near! We must prepare for flight!

   Awake, awake! The night is overslept!

How many miles to Egypt, how many tears?

Where once our fathers labored, mothers wept,

 We now seek refuge--haste, the tumult nears--

     As Joseph led his tribe to slavery

     Now serve the babe who sets the whole world free!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     As Joseph led his tribe to slavery, 

      Now save the babe who sets the whole world free!

 

 

A POEM FROM THE PAST....AND FOREVER

 At this time, Fiorella is stepping aside for a poem called  The Sacred Child (copyrighted)....

 

Two thousand years ago, the kings bowed down

And from their packs, three costly gifts brought forth--

Gold, frankincense, and myrrh were due the crown

Upon the wobbly head still wet from birth....

Two thousand years ago, the shepherds came

And bent their shaggy heads in mumbled prayer

To call upon the power of his name,

A baby, helpless in his mother's care....

Ten thousand years, the mother smiled

To know the joy of heaven at her breast

Her future's hope, her God's own child,

Who mewed at her disturbance of his rest....

    Two thousand years today, lest we forget

That every child is Christ among us yet

Closer and Closer and Closer.....

Okay, Fio feels like an idiot. She spent about two hours on the computer trying to remember the the name of last college she taught in before retiring, and then Son L found came up with it in about three second-- probably because he knew nothing of the bad memories your girl had of her ouster....or of the ouster at the same time of four other practiced teachers--to be replaced by five newly minted young women, who, as we later learned, fled at when their own term was up.

And yes, if you're wondering, your girl and her pals, were all experienced teachers who had always received high grades from their students....which her supervisor didn't....

Ah, well....that supervisor no longer walks this earth. Fio has been told that his superior, who had been the behind-the-scenes cohort in getting rid of the experienced teachers, arranged for his cohort's coffin to have a solemn ride down the the city's main street before reaching to its ultimate end.

This is the first time Fiorella has told this story, and it sort of scares her, so rip the blankets off the bed and your girl will switch to comedy like, "You know Christmas is close when Walmart is the most popular store in town😜😜😜 "

 

 

 

No Room

 Well, at least some people in the family are getting to go caroling--Daughter-in-law's family--but, according to Son L, there isn't room for Fiorella, which saddens her and gives her an idea at the same time: if no one has room for her (at the inn?) this evening, maybe she'll bundle up, go out into the front yard, and sing solo! Heck--she might even gather a few more lonely carolers!

But in the meantime, your girl will spend her time this afternoon on a revision of the Christmas card she sent out in 2077. It was the first of her musical series, and these were/are the words: FIRST VERSE: Today I sing a happy song/Today I sing a song of joy/Praise to God/God is good/God has given me a baby boy. SECOND VERSE: Today we sing a song of peace/ Today I sing a song of love/ Praise to God/ God is good/God be praised in heav'n above. (Um....it sounds better with music.)

Ah, memories of times past. Your girl can't help but smile at the memory of the couple of years that her kids' schools sponsored after-school class programs for the students, their parents, and the whole neighborhood. Fiorella, of course, volunteered for both the adult and children's music classes, and not only had a ball, but made some life-long friends. (Hi, there, Marian!)

So why is it that there is no room in the inn when it comes to Fiorella caroling now?

 

 

 

CHRISTMAS PREP---TRUTH WILL TELL

 Fiorella is caught up with Christmas--almost-- but has it caught up with her? No one seems interested in the cardboard bells and stars she's hitched to the walls lately. Does everything have to be plastic and bought in stores? 

One thing that never changes is the beauty of Christmas carols, but, lovely as Bing Crosby's recorded voice still voice is, it makes your girl cry because her mother would put a stack of such records on the record player every year at this time....and again, your girl misses her mother very much.

Let's hope Fio will find a place to dump all those plastic pill bottles she's saved through the years because Walgreens isn't interested. Will keep you posted. 😕

Fiorella has been overhearing a lot of back and forth between Massachusetts and Texas today, which is a good sign--the younger generation is taking over business responsibilities which didn't even exist when Fiorella first came aboard.

If you have a list and are checking it twice, your girl would consider anyone to be "nice" rather than "naughty" who will lift your girl's bed up for her while she scrambles around looking for a set of shoes ramps, a pair of glasses, and some lost silverware (don't ask). But what she'd really like is a friend....who has a car.😁

 

Calamity Jane Keeps Jumping Back and Forth

WHAT?! No Fiorella yesterday? Your girl could have sworn she she'd written down her calamities for the day, but maybe she hit the wrong button afterwards and everything😕 got erased.

 Whatever....after about two weeks of pulling the workings together, then apart, then together again, Fio's hit the right button today--her first holiday window decoration is finished, and IT IS GREAT! Of course, the achievement was not without help. It's thank to Daughter-in-law that the plastic candles are beaming their golden light into the universe, and Son L, bless him, was the one who found the necessary extension cord.

Oh, and Fiorella forgot to mention the several escapes to the outside that George Cat made whenever Fio would duck out to see what was working with her candelabra production and what wasn't. Interestingly enough, the family's gorgeous white Persian slips out the door like butter any chance he gets, but won't go beyond the front yard. How does her know?

There's still time yet, so your girl is hoping for a caroling group to emerge and maybe even invite her to join them, hint, hint..... Oh, has Fio mention this before? 😊

CHECKED AGAIN AFTER FINISHING THIS BLOG AND FOUND YESTERDAY'S BLOG TOTALLY IN PLACE JUST WHERE IT SHOULD BE. WHY IS IT THAT THE ELECTRONIC ELVES HAVE SUCH A GOOD TIME TEASING YOUR GIRL?!!

Christmas Grumbling

 Somehow, despite the outside lights and the inside decorating that Fiorella has been doing, it still just doesn't look "a thing like Christmas." Maybe it's the lack of music, or snow, or Christmas cards bulging the mailbox--the latter of which is Fiorella's fault because she's been moved around a lot in the last couple of years. 

But Fio, you've been at the same address for almost two years now and, knowing how easy it is to talk to you, surely you've made a whole passel of new friends by now. But alas, no--unfortunately, your girl's neighborhood is made up of mostly young children, and she doesn't have any of those hanging around anymore.

But tradition is tradition, and Fiorella is doing her best to get out a new card this year, although it will actually be a revamping of an older one--The Mother's Christmas Song--that she mailed out back in 1977. The words are (first verse)"Today I sing a happy song/ Today I sing a song of joy/ Praise to God/ God is good/ God has given me a baby boy," and (second verse) "Today we sing a song of peace/Today we sing a song of love/Praise to God// Praise to God /God be praised in Heaven above." (Don't try to find it on a newsstand.)

Surely there is some kind of New Years potent that will get your girl up and running again. Of course, the problem is that she can't drive anymore. She's taken care of part of the problem by hiring her former maid to drive her to the grocery store et al on Saturdays, but there's more to go. Actually, she needs her own chauffeur on call.

Or, at least have more talkative residents in the offing....

 

 

 

 

 

Decorating Madness....

 Your girl doesn't feel good--maybe because she's been bouncing around like an idiot during the holiday season, maybe because her chocolate larder is bare again, or maybe because she has no idea where her treasured Christmas card list is.  Whatever, 2022 is her first fairly normal Christmas in years, and she can't find anything....

Change of subject: Fio took her once-a-week blood test at the hospital this afternoon, and her coumadin level was PERFECT....just what it should be! (Merry Christmas!)

Unfortunately, her holiday house is NOT what it should be. Fiorella still has a Santa-Claus like plastic bag full of spent cartridges of old pills next to the bureau that she's been dragging around and trying to find a place for.  Surely, SOMEONE will be able to use the them.... where's Walgreens when you need them?

Oh, look--George, the big, white Persian cat has just now hopped up beside Fio and is purring like crazy! Has he gallantly come to comfort her girl and  her up? 😀 But, nooooooo: Georgie-Porgie--Puddin'-and-pie is trying to snuggle up next to Fio for warmth....

Meanwhile, Fiorella has Scotch-Taped eight red cardboard bells onto various halls and walls of the house she now lives in, and she'll be looking for even more suitable locations tomorrow. You know how it is with Fiorella--she doesn't want anything to go to waste.....

 

Bad Planning

 EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! Too much going on--sleep well and I'll write you tomorrow!

Tragedy List

 Tomorrow is a new day, as 'tis said, but Fiorella is going to have to brave it out with a minimum of milk, her favorite liquid, because when she went out to get groceries this afternoon, she forgot to add it to her list. Dang! Fio's milk cache can only last through today and probably till noon tomorrow, but after that, she'll have to drink Canada Dry....

On the other hand, the journey to HEB wasn't a total loss. The long flashlight that Fiorella bought in Walmart got back to the house without a scratch, so now's hoping that your girl can get down on her back and start checking under the bed for (1) her good eye glasses and (2) her $400 shoe inserts.

In the meantime, let's also look at the mystery of the sheet of silver paper that Fio bought in Walmart and which, like her milk, was also discovered missing when she got back to her house. Hmm....weren't there a couple of burly guys milling around Fiorella's car when she and her driver were trying to load it?

Son L and wife vary nicely invited your girl their Christmas tree "trimming ceremony" in the den, but it was hard for Fio to see ornaments she had inherited or bought or made in someone else's hands...or tossed aside.  

The closer Christmas gets, the more your girl wants to sing Christmas carols. Surely there is SOMEONE out there who could set up a sing-along. The neighborhood just spent hundreds (thousands?) of dollars on Halloween hoop-la so surely it could spare some time and energy getting together a caroling group based on the birth of the Son of God!

  ,

Family, Family, Christmas

 Oops--almost forgot to write because Daughter brought her Baby over to visit today. Yes, your Fio is a head-over-heels grandmother, and with everything else that's going on, she doesn't get to see Baby as much as she's like too....DRAT THAT COVID! Not that Fiorella has had  it--or that anyone else in the family has (except the Massachusetts branch), but she likes to play it safe.

Your girl has just spent her last two hours going through stacks of small notes, piece by piece, that she's written at one time or other to make sure no important family information went unnoticed.  Translation: the waste basket is overflowing.

Ah well, there's always tomorrow, and your girl is hoping that a sheet or two of gold tinsel and an electric cord will come with it. Yes, those two articles are what she needs to finish off her Christmas window. The creative genius of Fiorella Plum strikes again!

 

Christmas Preps, Ups and Downs

 

Fio forget to push the "Publish" button yesterday so you're getting yesterday's comments as well as today's.

Be happy along with Fiorella because she's F I N A L L Y gotten a seasonal decoration in her front window--something very simple that it was under her nose the whole time--the plastic candelabra in her former home that she always hung on the stairway come Christmastide. 

Then, after hanging the plastic and staring at the scene for a minute or two from outside, Fio supplied what would have been Husband's final addition to the scene--two sheets of red paper with a Christmas greeting in Latin printed on it--and Scotch-Taped  them on each side of the candles. 

And again, Fio cried a little, even as she is crying now . . . .

 

 

Christmas Cards Galore!

 If you're ever in a knife fight with Fiorella, you would win--and so would anyone else--because your girl can't deal with blood, be it living or dead. Needless to say, when the time came for her to choose a career, she was not drawn (😁) to anything even half-way resembling the medical world.

The above was just to get your attention. Needless to say, most of Fio's time is spent preparing for Christmas, like matching up her upper salon window with the lonely candelabra which she had brought from her former residence. (It was love at first sight!)

At present, your girl is struggling with a reworking of one of her own Christmas cards--the one with a song in it, if you remember. Being a show-off, Fio'll give you the verse later on, but you'll have to be able to read music to get the whole. (In the meantime, she'll lure you with the verses:

Today, I sing a happy song/Today, I sing a song of joy/Praise to God/God is good/God has given me a baby boy////////////Today we sing a song of peace/ Today we sing a song of love/Praise  to God/Praise to god, God be praised in heaven above. 

The message is somewhat repetitive, but your girl doesn't mind hearing it again and again. In fact, she hopes the whole world hears it! And that YOU start making your own cards too!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Memories

The best part of your girl's day came in the morning, when friend P, who lives in Vermont, called for a  pre-Christmas chat. Yes, you're beginning to catch on: Fiorella likes talking with people, and two of her teaching friends calling her up so close together had her thrilled to the bone.

 So then, was it any wonder that the rest of her day was something of a let down? Chasing a doctor that she's not fond of all around the cobbler's bench (by way of Walgreen's phone) to get her to continue to prescribe a med that she herself had put on Fio in the first place was not how your girl had wanted to spend so much of her afternoon.

And then there was the weather itself--a bit cold, and not a sunbeam (or person) to be seen. How could Fio put together the joyful declaration of Christmas she was planning to display in her salon window with everything looking so dismal? And the memories of those she had no longer with us?

But it's evening now, and tomorrow's a new day. 

Love, Fiorella

Excuses, Excuses, Excuses!

 Okay--yesterday was my day for sorrow, but your girl has recovered now. Move on, Fiorella!

.......Or maybe you should stay in place and get ready for Christmas. That big window out front has yet to be decorated, and you need to do something about hiding the cords leading from your age-old family Santa into the socket in the hallway. Then there's that front window that you tore your Ukrainian sunflowers off of so you could replace them with more of a Christmas message, if you ever think of what to say.....

Has Fiorella always been like this was at Christmas time? As I remember, she had plenty of energy at Halloween......

Maybe her current malaze is because she's not doing any singing this year. Yep, Fio's still more or less recovering from that horrible head cold she's had for about two months--but not recovering enough that she can join the rest of the choir.  (Honking coughs are not appreciated in the soprano section.)

Oh well, your girl still has eighteen days to recover herself and who knows what might happen next?😁

.

??????????????????????????????

 Today was my mother's birthday, and I miss her so much. She had been a high school teacher back in the oldern days, when woman rarely went further than college--and even if there had been opportunities for her to sign up for a Master's degree, her parents just didn't have the money. It was only through scholarships and odd jobs that she had gotten through her degree as it was. 

That's all I can say. Every time I start writing about her, I get all messed up. Maybe she's telling me to close the book.

 

 

Is It Christmastide Already?

 This dull, rainy Sunday has not been good for your girl. She added only two new pieces to her jigsaw puzzle, messed up even the easiest of her piano pieces, realized--after spending a couple of hours staring at the house across the street--that there was no way she could  come up with a satisfactory Christmas design for the front of her home, and then had to get Son L's help to open up her computer after she'd briefly closed it.

The good news is that Fio's throat seems to be clearing....for now. Pray for her that she'll be able to hit an easy F again. Yep, your girl likes those high notes. (At one time, she even had a G.)

Hooray! The pre-cooked half-turkey that Fiorella bought for herself just before Thanksgiving is now history with no help whatsoever--yum! Wonder what meat your girl try next?

One thing Fio's doing religiously is sniffing at her milk jugs very carefully because both Son L and she overbought a while back and Fio doesn't want any sour milk ruining the pudding.

 Truth to tell, Christmas hasn't really sunk in with Fio yet. It's Texas, so there's no snow and the little girls in our neck of the neighborhood are still running across the street with no shoes on. Another indication is that there's no one singing at the door. 

Speaking of, your girl would love to go caroling again. Hmm, wonder if she could get a local group going? Any volunteers?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From Boardom to Jigsaw Puzzles to the Weather to Notes to Sonia Dog

 What can Fio say except that she is very, very board. The rest of the family has cleared out to the other grandmother's house, and, after going through everything in the City of Austin's Senior Transportation Program--which she can't make heads or tails of--and rethinking her plans for this year's outside decorations--which are pie in the sky--your girl is running glum. Ah, well, maybe inspiration will hit her as the evening passes on.

One of the first things she'll have to do for sure is pack away the1000-piece jigsaw puzzle that Son L bought for her her recently. She doesn't have the room for it right now, and besides, if she went after the puzzle full blast, she'd miss Christmas.

Either the next-door-neighbors have turned up their TV or an ice cream wagon is coming down the street, and Fiorella is betting on the latter. Cold one day and warm the next--that's Texas for you.

Has Fiorella ever confessed to you that her bedroom wall--the inward-facing one--is covered with pictures, instructions, and every other kind of note you can imagine? And that some of these notes have leaked into the hall? But what else can your girl do when there is so much that she has done or needs to do?

Son just called and said he'd be two hours late getting back to the house, and Fio appreciates his call, but would feel safer if she had a dog sitting beside her....a big mastiff like her Sonia, God bless her soul.

 

 

Movin' Along as Best I Can

 What a wonderful thing to have a friend from across the waters who's kind enough to give Fiorella a call! And even better, the two of us were able to start talking right where we left off about a year ago, when, for some unknown reason, the national security systems of both our countries....or maybe a dastardly Russian scheme against womanhood..... tore Fio and her friend apart.

To tell the truth, both of our lives have moved forward, but neither of us have veered from our core values, which means we're still family oriented and have oodles of hilarious stories to tell. 

That's one of the things Fio likes about women, that most of us are born to laugh because (let's face it) pushing around a two-ton canon--or even a ten-pound lawn mower--just isn't our style. But seduction is, along with good food, a happy face, and making everyone comfortable.

Your girl has no idea why she's gone off kilter and talking nonsense right now except that she's not happy with one of her doctors forgetting to tell the pharmacy to lay off a certain pill that she is NOT supposed to take--and at herself for not recognizing it until after approximately fifty of the little darlings had ended up in her plastic pill box. Thank goodness, Fio hadn't swallowed any of them, but guess who's already paid for them them.

Has Fiorella told you that she's started planning a manger scene for the house's front window? It's going to be difficult because the panes haven't been washed for years and she'll probably have to do all the work inside, then hire a neighbor kid to fasten all her masterpieces in place. As always...pray for Forella.

The Long and the Short of It

 The day is getting shorter and shorter, which makes Fiorella bite her lip and look around when she steps outside to make sure no disgruntled elves are lurking around. Yes, your girl likes Christmas, but couldn't it be a bit brighter and more jolly? How about sleigh rides up and done the street? Or a few carolers off to an early start?

Meanwhile, Fio ponders her own fate. Is her sore throat healed enough that she can add her own cords to the singing? And what about those homemade holiday cards she produces every year? Will she be able to follow up on them?

Of course, remember that heavy snow is not the best memory for your girl, that she almost died a couple of years back in the "great Texas snowstorm." But maybe she could use her childhood Ohio memories to find search out a nice little  patch of snow and roll it into three balls, then stick a couple lumps of coal in its head for eyes, nose, and mouth, and have a jolly-faced snowman....

And what do you want for Christmas, Fiorella is asked, and she replies that she needs some sweet Santa to search under her bed for her missing glasses, her wedding silver, and her shoe supports. 

But even more important, she'd like to see world peace....and family peace💗

 

 

           

 

                   

From Neighborhood to Movies to Clothes Chest to UT, Uvalde, and the Ukraine

Six o'clock in a darkish evening, the door bell rings, and Fiorella hears the panicked voice of the next door neighbor asking after her daughter, who, it seems, forgot to tell her mother she was coming over to our house to play. All's well that ends well in this story, thank goodness.

Your girl has a hard time finding good television movies to put her asleep at night so when she does locate one, she watches that show for a couple of months until she understands its every nuance.  Doc Martin, Unfinished Sky, and Soap Dish have been her favorites, but now she's seeking a new venue, like maybe Three Men and a Baby, if it's still available. As she remembers from years ago, it was hilarious.

Did Fio tell you that she discovered a cache of old jewelry far back in the clothes chest in her bedroom? Mostly dog pins and little silver necklaces like we all wore when we went to church on Sunday back in the day, but who knows what Fiorella will find next? Sonia Dog's collar? Her own teething ring?

To help Fiorella deal with Uvalde and her reawakened memories of the UT shooting of her nephew so many years ago, Son L has arranged for your girl to have weekly counseling, which she appreciates. It's hard to talk about things like this... and hard not to.

Fio is thinking about taking down the yellow paper sunflowers that she cut out and scotch-taped to her front window when Russia first invaded Ukraine. The flowers are looking a little ragged, and it looks like our side has won anyway.

 

Purgatory

 Confession: your Fiorella does not like being alone in the dark. In fact, it frightens her so much that she screams, beats on walls, and cries for help. She's been this way as long as she can remember...maybe because she was a WWII child, when all the bombs were real.

Further confession: Fio's got a real mess on the other side of her bed right now--pens, tablets, wads of Kleenexes, a much-written upon calendar, and a plastic box full of pills. Well, what about the other side of the bed, you ask? That's where Sonia Dog's spirit sleeps, Fiorella answers, although sometimes the resident Persian--who's a dog at heart--makes a nest there and tries to comforts her.

As you can tell, your girl is melancholy tonight. Past times are winding themselves around her, reminding her of when she was a child, a schoolgirl, a wife, a mother, and now....a widow alone. 

Fiorella tries to keep up with what's going on around her, and she's thankful that most of her family tries to fit her into the their lives--but what about her own projects, desires, and dreams--the ones no on  else knows about? Will they always float just beyond her reach?

 How can Fio climb to the sky when there is no ladder?

 

Tweedle Dee, Not Much to Say

 Fio's world is looking a little brighter today. Son L picked up some of her favorite nourishments on his way home, and she's finally heard from the transportation people. Food and wheels--what can be better? Now to get that check deposited....

But, there is something else your girl wants, as you may remember: a bathroom soaker tub like she had in her former home. It's not only warm and cozy, but, at this point, symbolic.

Ah, the things Fiorella will be able to do with personal transportation--like pick up her own meds, continue PT on her bum leg, look at clothes and shoes, get her hair done, and and give Son L relief from driving her all over the place when he's already overloaded with responsibilities.

Hey, maybe your girl could even get in touch with old friends and even make knew ones! 

Ah, the possibilities, if all this pans out.... but in the meantime (does Fio use that word too much?) she'll continue to shuffle along to Buffalo on her own two feet with a telephone, a prayer, and a whimper or two.

 

Fiorella's Life Crumble's in Front of Her

 Daughter-in-law repaired my computer--or at least the Face Book part of it that had Fio totally bewildered because it had been showing nothing but cutesy animals for the last couple of months. Now, your girl likes animal pictures as much as everyone else, but there is a limit!

Fiorella is having a hard time--it's transportation again. Damn-- why wasn't your girl born with skates on her feet? Then, she'd be able to go scooting in and out of traffic as she picked up her groceries, claimed her meds, and deposited her check. As it was, H-E-B was closing when her transporter got on scene, which meant it was too late for the drugstore, and that the check is still in Fio's purse.

Actually, your girl had an idea for combining the three, but it depended on someone picking Fio up from the house at early afternoon--which didn't happen.

Sigh...now to plan for tomorrow. Getting the pills are the most important thing--but Fio hopes she will also be able to pick up some extra groceries that she needs while she's just around the corner. 

The check should be a simple drive-through, BUT WHAT'S "SIMPLE" for Fiorella anymore? 

 

 

Expensive Junk down the Drain?

 Fiorella has been going through her old jewelry this afternoon, and there's tons of it from her childhood on. Whoever dreamed she'd end up with a collections of so many gold necklaces, all of them still sparkling and begging to be worn? Fio does her best to oblige them, of course, but then the silver necklaces get into the fray and she's...uh...weighed down.

Does Fiorella like jewelry, you ask? OF COURSE, SHE DOES--even though storage and display is a problem. What is an even more of a problem, though, is figuring out what to do with the non-metal awards from kindergarten up to Phi Beta Kappa, all of which your girl treasure. 

Then there are then the booties that Mother crocheted whenever a friend of hers had a baby, and Dad's golf clubs, and the piles of photos of Fiorella's childhood homes, then of her own homes and children. And, of course, there's that whole front room of her current home that she's loaded with her art, writing, and foreign languages which--for shame--she hasn't kept up with.

NOTICE--This has not been the best day for her girl so she's closing the barn door early today. 

As always, please pray for her.

Santa Claus Is Geering Up His Sleigh!

 Well, it looks like that terrible head cold that Fiorella has been fighting is abating at last, but it's too late for her to rejoin the Methodist choir for Christmas, and who knows--your girl just might find a nice Lutheran choir in the backwoods somewhere that needs a nice soprano. Of course, as usual, wherever she goes, Fio will still have a problem with transportation. Right now, she's trying to get in touch with the city people who provide what amounts to low-cost-taxi service for (ahem) people her age, but so far. no luck.

In the meantime, your girl has been cleaning up her bedroom, which is no easy task because Fio saves EVERYTHING. After all, you never know when your discards might be turned into something useful.

If you're having a hard time finding just the right Christmas present for a friend or relative whose house runneth over, consider checking with him to see how he would feel about you sending a nice check to his favorite charity. 

Quick change of subject: Fiorella is considering giving herself some a personal present or two after the New Year, so don't be surprised if she shows up with minor face-lift. She's done it before and is thinking of a repeat. (She'd love to have a nice big dog too, but that ainta-gonna happen, sigh.)

Skipping ahead to the New Year, your girl would like to get out more and meet up with old friends, and, at the same time, make new friends. Wish her well!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

 The weather is wet and dreary as Fiorella prepares to spend the rest of the day with a boatload of people--her daughter-in-law's relatives--who all know each other but don't know her.  It's scary....

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX WHAT HAPPENED! THE REST OF FIO'S COMPLAINT  HAS BEEN WIPED CLEAN!

But, as long as she's there, she'll amend herself and say that a fair number of people at the have actually made acquaintance with her this time around. Hoping our next encounter will be even better.

In the meantime, your girl is working on her cork boards, trying to get rid of old papers, birthday cards, and messages, some of which, she'll admit, date back to the Dark Ages. 

Hmm...With Thanksgiving being over, Fio has no excuse for delay on her special Christmas card--the  one your girl's going to make from one of her long-ago cards--except that she doesn't have the address of very many friend's anymore. But maybe she can throw the card up on FaceBook--except that, suddenly, her FB doesn't seem to be accepting anything excrpt pictures of puppies and kittens....

Nevertheless, your girl will keep plowing ahead in her own strange way.

 

 

 

 

 

Swetting It Out Til Tomorrow

 Fiorella will be attending a Thanksgiving celebration tomorrow and has no idea how it will work out since almost everyone there will be younger than she is. Nevertheless, she's taking her computer along with her and will catch you up on anything interesting.

Just thinking...all of Fio's students were younger than she was, so maybe she can make it, even without chalk, black board, and an attendance sheet in her hand.

Actually, though, your girl thinks everybody at the gathering will ignore her, which has happened before, so maybe she should just take something to read....or a drawing pad. DAMN--WHY HADN'T SHE LEARNED HOW TO KNIT?

Hmm....what would she wear? Let's face it--your girl has been cloistered for so long that her entire wardrobe is jeans, tops, and shirts. Yep, dowdiness is what happens when lack of transportation strikes. (And her hair needs attention too--professional attention.)

She also needs someone to search under her bed for her good glasses, the blocks that are shaped to her feet, and her mother's silver. The latter, she threw under the bed because she didn't know what else to do with it when she first moved in.

 

 

 

 

Putting It All Together

 

 "Alone by the telephone," as the song goes--but only till nighttime, when her family--or at least Son L--will return home so Fiorella won't be at alone. Yes, your girl is a scaredy cat, born and bred. She'll never forget the light-weight curtains of her bedroom windows whooshing up and down against the non-air-conditioned Texas windows at night when she was a seven-year-old in a new home. 

So, what will Fio do? How about her laundry? With son and wife gone, she will be able to wash her clothes without waiting in line-- and just maybe, just maybe, she can slice off a few more hunks of that pre-cooked turkey breast that she bought the other day. (YUM!)

And she can always practice on the piano or start working on a certain painting she's got in mind.

She might also try some singing now that no one else is in the house but the cats. After all, her voice seems to be coming back enough that she can pretty much reach the soprano high notes again.

Whatever, at least it doesn't involve scary curtains again!

 

 

 

All About Fiorella...

Has your girl ever told you that she and her family inherited a ranch in Colorado that no one in the current family has ever seen, but that Fio has become friends-by-phone with the long-time renter who is, interestingly enough, also a woman?

Did you know that Fiorella's favorite movie  is Soap Dish and that she watches it two or three times every night to put herself to sleep?

Has Fio ever mentioned that she's written two romances which were published by a top-notch house?

Did you know that your girl, who's lived most of her life in Texas, was so bad in a horsemanship class that when her horse reached down for some grass, she slid over its neck onto the ground?

Do you remember that "Fiorella" told you she had snatched her name from a famous New York politician because she admired him.... and thought his name was funny?

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, Your Girl Lives on PILLS!

 Again, Fiorella is writing toward the end of the day, a sure guarantee that her day has been a mess. Friend Raquel showed up right on time to drive your girl to H-E-B and buy her groceries, but the weather was downright dismal--sluggish rainy all day. Nonetheless, Fio had a nice visit with Raquel and did a fairly good job of shopping, although she wasn't able to snag another pre-baked half quarter turkey.

Unfortunately, your girl is still nervous about her pill set-up, mostly because of that angry nurse who insisted that Fio should be taking a pill that Fio's heart doctor had nixed. To add to it, a lower-rank doctor hasn't renewed your girl for another one of her necessary pills, but having run into this kind of situation before, Fiorella thinks it's an honest mistake. Non-the-less, yours truly won't be able to get to the hospital until Monday--maybe Tuesday--to work everything out,  depending on when she can get a ride.

In the meantime, she is planning on having a nice visit with her brother and his wife tomorrow. Fio thinks it's to honor his birthday,  but she's not, sure. Never the less, we'll all have a great time. Your girl's family is like that.

And Fio hopes your family is too. 💗

 

 

 

 

From Revelations to Yawn....

 Your girl is thinking about her father's heritage again--she rather enjoys being half Carpatho-russyn. Besides, the Carpatho-russyns seem to be related to the Ukrainians, and she'd already  spattered her front window with yellow sunflowers.

The computer just surprised Fiorella by wiping her slate dry when she was trying to tell you that the big white cat that likes your girl is not a persian, but a Persian.

Fio is going through all the notes she has taped to her inside bedroom wall and getting rid of what she doesn't need anymore, which isn't as many as she thought it would. Any volunteers to help?

What will your girl be doing tomorrow? How about going out to pick up her weekly groceries, then persuading her driver to drip by somewhere she can get her hair done? Hmmmmm......

Fio is running late tonight so she'll say good night and sleep well.💗

Personal

 What the heck is going on here! Fiorella's beginning to think that her computer entries are being sabotaged....or maybe it's just the rough water she's been treading around in. Memories are not always the best thing to poke around in.

Like those of her first pregnancy, which was such a joy--but didn't take. The darkness, the doctor who said he'd be at the hospital door but wasn't, her having to climb three rusty floors with blood dripping down her legs. Being assigned to a dimly-lit room off to the side because someone more important than she was giving birth.....then being told her baby couldn't be saved.

Would it have been a girl or a boy? Husband and Fio were both bright so maybe she/he would have done or invented something that saved the world--or at least entertained it. Whatever, her baby's small beginnings went out with the trash, and Fiorella was desolate.

Later, we adopted a beautiful baby boy and loved him with all our hearts. Then, as a surprise, a few years later, Fio gave birth to a baby boy,  and a few years more, a baby girl. More than that, Fiorella will not tell you because the rest is the the children's story.

Except for your girl's part of it, which is that she loves all her children and weeps when she is away from them. 

You're Not Goiing to Believe This!

Oops, please forgive her--Fio almost missed a day😀

Today was (uh) interesting--or maybe more like unbelievable....  Your girl got in a fight with a nurse. Not in a hospital, thank goodness, but over the phone, and Fiorella still doesn't know what to make of it, or if she'll ever feel safe entering that woman's territory again. 

The whole thing started when Fio had heart surgery about a year back. Some very nice nurses took care of her, and they they also taught her all about the various pills necessary to her health, and your girl has never had a pill problem till today.

And, of all people, it was from a nurse....

Fio had gone through the latest print-outs of her permitted pills and noted that one of them that was still on her list that had been removed earlier by the doctor who had done her heart surgery about a year ago. Not knowing what to do about the situation, she called his office and the surgeon's assistant kindly explained that the surgeon had good reason to remove that pill from my list, and that if the people at the other hospital would call her, and she'd explain it all. 

Sighing in relief, Fiorella, who'd spent a l-o-o-o-o-n-g time on hold all afternoon, finally got through to the first hospital again and reported her findings, but the female nurse who answered on the hospital line told Fio off. Apparently, she thought your girl, who knows nothing about the world of medicine, should have talked to the surgeon rather than his assistant.   

Not Fiorella's best day......          

 

 

 shouldn't be

Pulling Everything Together--

 It's gotten cold and Fio has used half of her weekly chocolate cache on whipping up a cup of hot chocolate today, which means she'd better add Hershey's brand to her weekly food list. Ever since childhood, it's been her favorite winter wake-up  treat.

Daughter-in-law kindly supplied Fiorella with an electrified blanket when she complained about the cold weather, and, of course, the second that your girl left the room to tend to her homemade chocolate,  the cat took over the blanket.

Fiorella is having to miss choir because of her bad throat, but it's made her more industrious in regard to her studio. Yep, she's making plans not only about this year' Christmas card, but her own future.

Your girl has three big boards on the wall beside her bed, and they're spattered with things she wants to do or remember, things like a picture of her last dog, family obligations, and current assignments.

Fio's also started thinking about yesteryear (as they say), and family problems of the past, when she and Husband acted as parents to their kinsman who had no such any more....and afterwards, she wept for them and for herself.

So Tired That I Can't Think of a Title......

 Your girl is having a busy day. She's rearranging her mini-fridge and starting on the rest of the studio/ study/salon too. Unfortunately, her TV remains the same, even running the same shows she remembers from way back when....except for the Ukraine situation, of course, which seems to be (hooray!) getting more upbeat by the day. 

Fiorella skipped church/choir today--she's still hoarse and it's driving her crazy. One of her doctors suggested a pill she could get from our local pharmacy, but Son L already has his hands full so your girl will have to wait her turn. (Has Fio mentioned this before?)

The weather was cold this morning when your girl went out for a walk so she put on the dreamy mink jacket that she had given her mother for Christmas many years ago and imagined herself as the queen of the block--until a young woman who wearing a light-weight jersey outfit blasted by.

Fio is writing at the end of the day now, after a nap that made her even more languid. She's moved a couple of the weightier framed family portraits around now and is making plans for one--maybe two-- more to find new homes WITHIN HER OWN COLLECTION. (Gone are the days when she handed her art out willy-nilly.)

The major task tomorrow,  will try be trying to lasso someone to hang up a painting of her late husband's grandmother (great grandmother?) A while back, Fio nearly knocked herself out trying to get this lady unhooked from her current position, but she figures that since both Son L and his wife are taller and stronger than she is, tomorrow will be THE DAY.

 

 

 

From Newspapers to the UT Massacre (Again)

 Today is Saturday, and can you guess how Fiorella knows? It's because the newspaper doesn't deliver on this day, which your girl suspects is a way of preparing her and any other old-fashioned newspaper readers for when the news will come out only by computer. SHAME!

By the way, Fio has a cute--and meaningful--outfit on today: jeans with a matching jacket over a years-old T-shirt from her Dad's last reunion with his Osceola, Pennsylvania, high school pals. Fio wears the shirt proudly, of course, but tears up when she thinks of her father, the best father in the whole wide world.💗

Son L and family are out right now, which means Fiorella is alone in the house, which makes her a little nervous, even though she lives in a nice neighborhood and all doors are locked. A neighbor down the way had said she'd come up and visit with our your girl, but it doesn't look like she's going to show. 

Oh well, Son's family should be back home by nightfall, and tomorrow, Fio will trot off to evening choir practice--if Son will transport her and the Methodists will still let her in....

 Fiorella is in sorrow that so many Texas voted for the current governor, who's an out-and-out Trump adherent. This is the same man who nearly killed Fio during the horrible storm a couple of years ago, the same man who was on his way to a gun convention when the Uvalde massacre occurred.

Speaking of massacres, Fiorella is considering painting a picture of the gathering of the adult members of the family she married into before the UT massacre struck. It's gnawing at her.

 

 

FIORELLA UP TO DATE WITH HERSELF

 Please forgive Fiorella for being late again. She had a rough day--not only did she get called in by the medical powers-that-be to get her blood tested, but it was also the day she did her own grocery shopping since she moved in, the day she tested her plan of engaging her former maid as her chauffeur to drive her wherever she need to go, and the day that was the nastiest weather she has seen this year. In fact it was so bad that when Fio finally arrived at her doctor's abode ONE HOUR LATE, she was the only patient in the office, and the (short) staff welcomed her with open arms. .

 Your girl should also add that, sadly, her blood was NOT in good shape and so, when she got home, as instructed, she augmented her single little pink pill with another half pink pill. (If longevity depends on pills, Fiorella will live forever.)

In the meantime, Fio has to re-find her soprano voice up to F on the piano. Let's just hope the pills that your girl's neurologist told her had cured his own throat will cure hers. Cough, cough, snort....

 What next? Well, Fiorella will continue to sing along with the Methodist choir as long as she can, of course, and beside using her musical talent, there's a chance she will be able to demonstrate her painting skill with the church's arts and crafts program. If so, that would leave only her last two God-given gifts to make use of--languages/linguistics--which has lain dormant for so long that it may be gone forever, and her writing, which you're getting a taste of right now. (She's also has a couple of romances published, but there are more swirling around in her sordid brain.)

Meanwhile, love each other, and be happy💗💗💗

 

 

 

 

 

MOVIN' ON TO CHRISTMAS--Make your own cards!

 The day is muggy and Fiorella (who's always a month ahead) couldn't even put together a design for her Christmas card, even after she'd shuffled through all her past ones for inspiration. To explain, your girl has always been a master Christmas card maker, but she sort of lost her touch after her husband died. So now, five years later, she wants to start it up again.

The first thing, of course, is to figure out your theme--what you want to say--and then you buy envelopes that will fit. Fio wouldn't recommend making your own envelopes because it's tedious work and you want to save yourself for the hard labor--designing, correcting, and writing your own individual message to each person to whom you are sending a card.

The major colors you will use are obvious. 

And what is Fiorella's theme going to be this year? Probably a take-off on a card she made several years ago, when she was living in the middle of music and motherhood. It's a sweet little song spread over four four-inch pages and illustrated by sketches of holly in the corners of the "cover." Yep, you can do all sorts of things with Christmas cards. Tally ho!

But Fio, you ask, "Christmas is still a while away. What are you doing now?" 

"Preparing for Christmas," I explain. "My church choir is putting together a great repertoire and I'm a soprano." 

😄

 

 Too much going on. Fiorella will fill you in tomorrow.

From Cat to Religion to Ice Cream to Medic to Election

 Fiorella is apparently behind in reporting to you, which she doesn't understand. Could she have forgotten to push the PUBLISH sticker on her work yesterday....or did the great white Persian cat take over while your girl was outside somewhere? Whatever, now you know for sure that Fio is for real--no syndication involved.

Actually, Fiorella was inside most of the day, shoveling through mini-piles of things like writing and rewriting her latest little poem, fighting with the local hospital over the telephone about when her weekly blood draw should be, and pondering what to call herself now that your little Lutheran girl has tasted Methodist communion. (It was very nice and the choir was FANTASTIC!)

Granddaughter convinced her father, Son L, that it was a great evening for ice cream and invited Fio along to boot. It was a lovely evening, soft, almost hazy, and Fiorella couldn't help but think of the many trips to the ice cream shop that her father had taken the family on when she was a child in Ohio....and she also wondered if he was watching them on high as they enjoyed their treats.

Tomorrow, your girl will be visiting her favorite doctor--she even gave him a couple of her novels a couple of years ago. After all, he'd told her about about a motorcycle excursion when he and several other local doctors went a while back. (It's fun to have a sawbones who isn't afraid of being a friend.)

Fio is still waiting on pins and needles for the results of our local polls, but she is hoping, hoping, hoping the good guys will win. REMEMBER GEORGIA!

WWWWWHAT A DAY!

 What a day! In the morning, Son L dropped Fiorella off at the church that (1) she's been attending during practices to warm up her vocal cords and see if she could still sing, and (2) it was also the first time she'd been inside the church proper.  The rest of the choir--the ones your girl  had become somewhat accustomed to, at least--were up in the rafters behind the pastor, singing songs that Fio had practiced with them. The Kyire was especially moving, and Fiorella, of course, wept like a baby--not only because of the beauty of the music, but also she herself had practiced it.

Then came the communion, which the choir took down the rows of the pews. Fiorella was nervous at first and refused when a male choir member whom she didn't recognize approached her, but when one of the female choir members smiled and called her by name, Fio did take part, crying the whole time. Where does your girl get all that water from? 

Whatever, Fiorella floated out of the church and all was well, even though she hadn't learned a thing about the upcoming arts&crafts show planned for next week, which means she doesn't know how to prepare for it. Years ago, your girl used to appear in a lot of shows like this, but she doesn't know what kind of paintings people are looking for now--and how much they'll pay. 

After Son L and Fio got back to the house, their "real" pastor (= Lutheran) knocked on our door in the afternoon as he does every month or so, and your girl had a quiver of guilt for attending a Methodist church and taking its communion, although her traveling pastor, she knows, would understand.

The rest of the story isn't as great--your girl has lost the Methodist choir book assigned to her. Pray for her.

 

NERVOUS TO THE BONE!

 Fiorella is somewhat upset because she still can't find that framed family picture from about forty years ago that she wants to turn into a painting. She remembers it as sitting on her bureau the night before, but when she woke up in the morning, it was gone. Elves?

Your girl finally got the proceeds from the family ranch handed out to the remaining generation. Don't get too excited--Fio and her late husband never saw the place, and the previous generation probably didn't either. Their great-grandfather (an Oklahoma storekeeper) was the one who bought up land whenever he could.

Whoa! Fiorella didn't know there was a Facebook inside of Facebook! That must have happened when she was in the hospital for one reason or another, or maybe when she was totally out of touch during the snow storm and its aftermath.....or maybe while she was moving. But one thing Fio can tell you is that she was completely ignorant of the new situation. Anyone willing to educate her?!!

For a quick change of topic, your girl will admit that she's very nervous about putting foot inside her "new" church tomorrow morning. It's not Lutheran, and she won't know about anyone there or the way they worship. Sure, most of the choir members will probably be present, but Fio hasn't been around long enough for them to recognize her learn her name..

DANG! All in all, Fiorella's plan to take care of more of her needs by herself so Son L will have more time with his wife and child hasn't worked, but she still has a couple more ideas up her sleeve. Wish her well.

 

 

 

 

 

LATE NIGHT CONTEMPLATIONS

 It's sort of dark looking outside, but that's November for you. Meanwhile, Fiorella is waiting with baited breath for the results of yesterday's voting. Please, God. please let O'Rourke win! (Yes, your girl has just revealed her political standing, but remember, her family has had to deal with mass murder first hand.)

While waiting for her driver to take her to the doctor's office and the bank, your  girl was playing around on the piano. What a blessing it is, though Fiorella knows every time she touches the keys, they might, like her, go down for the count. (Fio should add that she has an electronic piano from about forty years ago that is in its dying days,)

Hmm.... A couple of months ago, when Fiorella and her son had a confrontation with that eyes-nose-ears and-throat doctors, the female member of the team noted that Fio's uvula was too thin and needed to be operated on. Your girl vehemently rejected the idea because she already had a knee that had worked better BEFORE than before it was supposedly improved. And--get this: your girl looked up "uvula" in the encyclopedia just in case she was over reacting, and she couldn't find a single word that made her nervous about her own uvula....although, because she's the nervous type, she'll check things out with a neurologist friend that she trusts the next time she sees him.

What now for Fiorella's attempted entry onto the local church music scene? Well, everyone is nice but her throat is still quite scratchy and she's having a problem reaching some of the high notes. Maybe it would help if she could locate not only a good throat doctor, but someone who would keep reminding her to keep talking in her upper register.

Has Fio been repeating herself? Has she been whining about the same things as she did yesterday and last week and the whole time you've been reading her blog? Sorry--her only excuse is that she doesn't know anything else to talk about except what she sees, hears, feels, and thinks. What about you?

 

Difficult Times

 Fiorella had a wonderful time at choir practice yesterday evening, and part of her joy was because she actually got a ride to the church! Son L had other things going on so your girl called the church, explained the situation, and a very nice couple, both of whom were in the choir, picked her up. Everyone in the choir made her feel welcome, and Fio did her best to be worthy of their kindness. Your girl will try to get a ride to church this Sunday to see what the whole picture is like. Wish her well.

Meanwhile, Fio is going to be voting as soon as Son L has the time to drive to the polls. (And again, your girl grumps about our society being based on travel and the fact that she can no longer drive.)

Changing the subject, Fiorella has decided to move forward on a major painting, but now she can't find the model, a photo of her husband's family from when your girl joined them. GRRRRR.....

Back to the church choir, Fio wonders if the director would like to use a couple of Christmas songs Fio wrote a while back, but she isn't going to approach him until he knows her better.😁

Whoopee! In just an hour, your girl has voted, picked up her meds and replenished her cache of chocolate--the first act was accomplished in an empty storefront and the last two was a pick-up at Walgreens, which will never be empty.

Now the political nail-biting begins......

 

 

OOPS, FORGOT!

 Sorry--nothing to say this evening, but lots to say tomorrow,

From Halloween to Choir Practice to Botox

 It's a new day, but Fiorella is still breathing deep from yesterday. Let's face it--she s not built for a two-hour walk around a neighborhood blazing with unearthly creatures and boom boxes, so maybe this wasn't the best way to get to know anyone.

Halloween used to be for children--no adults involved except to hand over the sweets. We worked in packs, as Fio remembers, and had a great time of it. There were very few "tricks"involved because according to code, the only houses we went to were the ones with their indicative front door lights on. But now, from what your girl has seen, Halloween has been kidnapped by semi-adults who once a year gather up everything they can find that looks ghoulish and makes horrendous noises and plant it on their front yards. Fiorella is not amused.

On the other hand, your girl is quite pleased with the little HALL-O-WEEN  greeting she pulled together to welcome anyone who came to the front door. She's wrapped it up now, but is already planning how to improve on it next year.

Guess what! Fio might have scored a hit regarding her attendance at the outdoor choir practice because when she called the church and explained her situation, the secretary (?) said she could probably find someone who would help your girl. In the meantime, get out your ear plugs because Fiorella has been practicing her high E. 

Apparently my neurologist is now qualified (or whatever) to administer Botox, and you can bet your girl will be first in line. Her forehead looks like a rain drain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, Fiiorella Is Somewhat Weird, but That's What makes Her Interesting!

 Fiorella's belief is that every PERSON and every THING in this world is born wanting to be of use. Thus, she feels not only entitled but driven to play her old piano, to wear clothes she's had for years, to value anything big or small that her magic fingers can turn into something any better. She tries to do the same with the people around her too, even if for only an instant--a smile can work wonders, you know.

As you can tell, Fio is on a roll. Energy, energy, energy--what will her next project be? Her small bedroom can't hold even a tiny bit more, likewise her piano room, so her somewhat spacious salon will be her next project. She won't be throwing anything away, just rearranging.

Wow! Fiorella and family trampled all over the neighborhood this evening to get close-ups of Halloween decorations--lights, animated figures, and everything else you could imagine. It wasn't a thing your girl was really interested in, and she knew it would be hard for her keep up with everyone else because of her bum leg, but she wanted to be part of the family experience. 

Now to get back to thinking about this year's Christmas cards, how she's going to get a ride to Wednesday's choir practice, and what she can do to save the world.

 

ADAVANCEMENT IN THE OFFING

 Fiorella's HALL-O-WEEN design turned out well so she attached it to the screen of the front door to welcome visitors. Hmm...maybe next year, she could make an even bigger version of it. Wahoo!

Son L just presented Fio with a gorgeous gold and ruby-red throw to warm her tootsies, but she's unsure of the message because he and his wife have already given her two other of the same, but with different patterns on them. Hmm...

Your girl, whom you'll remember is recovering from a disastrous knee surgery and has been taking short walks down the street to the mailbox without her cane, is now proud to announce that she added an extra block to her journey today. Yep, she'll be in the Olympics before you know it!

When it came to moving from her old home, Fiorella thought long and hard about whether she should take her piano, a small electronic model that was the worse for wear and could only play in one of its voices instead of the four others for whom it was built. In the end, your girl figured that if a bedraggled little piano could lived this long, she herself should still have enough pep left in her that she could start playing again. And, as it turned out, she did. THANK YOU, GOD!

Did Fio tell you that she is moving into the next stage of her recovery? She plans to sell some things and be more herself--more creative, decisive, confident, and productive. HI-Y0 SILVER AND AWAY!

 

 

YOU DON'T WANT TO BE AN ARTIST

 Fio gets stymied by the weirdest things--like not being able to find an eraser anywhere in the house when she needs it. Is this a curse, and will Son L be able to take one glance arounfd at her desktop and spot whatever it is that she can't see herself?

The rest of the family went off to visit the other grandparents so your girl spent a couple of hours piecing together a Halloween welcome for the the front dour inside screen. It was all paper of course, and took advantage of the fact that the word HALLOWEEN has three syllables--HALL-O-WEEN. Your girl had a hard time with it, but managed to get the "O" between the two syllables, outline the word "HAPPY" in black above the syllable "O",  then stuck on the sidelines with two-sided tape. Wish you could have been here and watched the show--Fio spoke sharply to the various colored papers, the pieces of orange paper she couldn't find, the fat white cat lazing on my bed and purring in amusement, and her outrage when she suddenly realized she'd put "O" on top of the greeting rather than bottom and would have to remake it all.

Why was your girl so determined to spend so much time on working on her own special Halloween gegaw when she could probably have found something like it--or better--in a store? BECAUSE SHE'S AN ARTIST, BORN AND BRED!

 Enough of that. Instead, Fiorella wants to tell you about her wonderful recovery from the that nasty cold that drove her out of the church choir she's hooked up with. The kudos belong to Son L, of course, the kudos belong to Son, who hauled Fio girl all over central Texas till he found out why she coughed so much and couldn't sing. She's probably told you all about it before, but  your girl is still a little dazed. 

Meanwhile, that big white cat is trying to get Fiorella's attention by nudging her hand and yanking on her earrings.

From Music to Taxes to Alaska to A Confession

 Fiorella didn't realize how wonderful it is that she can sing--and sing well--until this past week and a half when she hasn't been able to.

Your girl came from a singing family. On nice summer evenings, we would go out on the front porch and harmonize. Mom sang alto and the rest of us--Dad, Brother, and Fio sang melody--although after taking a music class in high school and learning how to harmonize, Fiorella  harmonized upwards. Then, when she took college classes, she hit the local big time--musical theater. Sigh.....those were the days.

Ah, well, back to the present, instead of walking the boards, your girl has been wrestling with getting her taxes ready to mail.... and will probably run late. You know how it is with theater people. 

Why all the nostalgia about times past? Partially because Fiorella is able to sing again, and partially because Halloween, in which everyone is not just permitted, but urged, to come up with some wild costume. It's also, of course, the definite end of summer--at least in Texas. No more jumping into a nice outdoor pool unless you're from Alaska.

By the way, when your girl was in her freshman year of college, there was one girl who sunbathed or swam most of the year around, a very pretty blond girl from.....DRUM ROLL--ALASKA. The dorm "mothers" considered her behavior to be a show-off to attract boys, but couldn't do anything about it, and, after all, that's how eighteen year old girls act when they're set loose in college far way from home. Not that Fio went that far, but if there was a good looking boy in her class, she did try to make a minor play for him--and not with much success. Your girl was usually at the top of the class, and that scared guys off.

Ah....now Fio is telling you all.

Pre-Hallowen Update

 YES! Fiorella is on the mend! She even spent an hour limbering up her muscles at her favorite Physical Therapy store this morning--and when she's in shape again, she hopes to be able to return her left knee to semi-normal. It's no fun having to pull herself up by a table leg every time she goes down to pick up something she's dropped on the floor.

YEP! October is getting colder--and windier-- every day. Fio piled on the covers last night and, in the morning, stayed snuggled under them until she got hungry enough that her belly started making xxxxxx sounds.

HOORAY! Your girl is at last over her cold and SHE CAN SING AGAIN! Wonder if the Methodists will still let her back in their doors? Wonder if they'd be interested in her compositions? (Is Fio repeating herself?)

HMM... About half the houses on the street are decorated, the most prominent being a plastic skeleton about ten feet high that's surrounded by random skulls and other body parts, none of which seem to bother the many children on the block. Are they that blase or what?

WONDER IF the kids around here will go door-to-door or gather at the community center.....

 

Catch Up

 This blog will probably be short because Fiorella has been sleeping most of the day. Let's hope that means she's getting better and might even be able to attend choir practice tomorrow. 

In the meantime, the bug-spray man is dousing the area below her bedroom window--HONK! ACHOO! 

Oh--Fio forgot to tell you that she is planning one more item to her "Halloween Parade," a paper cat that she's designed and will twist around the the three middle alphabet letters of "HALLOWEEN. "

LET'S GO DOWN TO "TODAY DAY!" Yes, your girl is a Halloween mess. She's also still snuffling against a cold, still fending the giant cat off rubber bands, still trying to find a way to find out a family wealth distribution, and yet, she's bored, bored, bored. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Son L took Fio out for a hamburger this evening because he was not in too good a mood himself.  Maybe tomorrow will be better for both of us. 

One thing that Fiorella is down in the dumps about is that, after she's laughed her way through the TV movie SoapDish for probably about 100 times, she's just not interested in it any more. 😢

Technically, your girl could have gone back to the choir this evening, but it would have been a bad choice because her high notes aren't as reliable as they should be.

Did Fio tell you that her piano practice is actually baring fruit? Yep--she's now able to play through a three-page waltz in "John Thompson's Second Grade Book." Hmm...wonder if there are some third grade books lying around. 

And again Fiorella asks--DOES ANYONE OUT THERE STILL PLAY THE PIANO?????

 

 

 

 

OOPS, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED EARLIER SO NOW FIO'S REWRITING IT

 Music teachers live in their music long after their deaths, even if their names are forgotten. Fiorella hopes that whatever meager influences she herself might have instilled in her own students will also have a good effect.

Granddaughter, who's having a great time in kindergarten, decided to play school with Fio this morning, and guess what five-year-old took the roll of teacher and what Ph.D. was assigned the roll of student?

Fall is here and the branches of the trees next to Fiorella's bedroom window are beating a tattoo that's keeping her awake at night. Time to haul out the saw and shears.....

Okay, your girl will admit it that she read her calendar wrong and, because the 30th and 31st of October are on the tail on the calendar this year, thought Halloween was a week earlier. BLUSH!

OOOPS! Fio said she had THE FLU, but she looked over all her papers again, and what she's got is a COLD!

Has Fiorella made any sense at all during the time she's been sick?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fio Is Coming Up To Speed!

 How can a body manufacture so much mucus? Fio can hardly wait to get on a scale again and see how many pounds she's lost. The Kleenex stock must be riding high these days.

O M G ! Covid strikes again--it just dawned on Fiorella that she was so involved in getting her Covid shots that she forgot all about getting a flue shot. Oh well, only about a week to go--snort sniff, a-a-a-CHOO!

Despite everything, your girl is determined to walk up to the community mail box this afternoon, drop her bills in the slot, and maybe even make a little light conversation with anyone coming by. She needs the exercise and....she'll admit it: she wants to show off her cute outfit.

You can tell it's fall because the branches of the tree in front of your girl's long bedroom window keep slapping against it, which, of course, excites the big, white cat enough that he/she makes a leap for it. (Fio does not give the cat a sexual identity because (1) it's fixed, (2) although "it" was once a cat, it acts more like Fiorella's still-mourned Sonja Dog, and (3) it is of special solace to yours truly.

HEY! FIORELLA HAS ACTUALLY LOST WEIGHT, more than five pounds, which is of no wonder with all the snorting and heaving that the flue has put her through. Now, as she rides the recovery road, let's see if she can keep it off.

 

Six little pumpkins sitting in a row

And when the house is dark, where do they go?

Rolling through the house to see each other's face

And who will be the winner of the pumpkin race  

(Fio lined up six small pumpkins in the family's front hall, then wondered about them....)

 

FIORELLA IS FINALLY GETTING BETTER

 Your girl had a bit of a relapse today, but now, in early evening, is flying high again. Isn't it amazing how "just a cold" took her over so completely! Hmm...maybe Fiorella's constant prayers and the family's big white cat, who kept licking at Fio's nose, had something to do with her recovery. Whatever, THANK YOU!

Now Fio has to look around and figure out what's next on her palate. She has to pull her bedroom back together again, of course, and check out the study. Also try to remember that idea she had about luring people to the Senior Activity Center by advertising courses people would like to take, like piano, guitar, art, and languages, also gathering together a choral group, even performing some plays--all of which (except for the guitar), your girl herself has experience in, but would love to learn more. 

Come to think of it, how about an "each one/teach one" set up in which people don't have to pay  if they are teaching a class themselves!

Her only problem, of course, is transportation, but she's looking at a new angle in that regard. Wish her well.

If you heard someone weeping when she was out in the street buying a treat from the Ice Cream Lady, it was Fio, because she can't help but remember when she was a kid and the ice cream wagon would  come down the street every summer's day. A boyfriend of hers drove it one summer and Mom would usually invite him up on the porch for a little rest--the wagons weren't air-conditioned back then. 

P.S: If it sounds like Fiorella is discombobulated, she is. Have pity on her....

 

 

 

 

 

GOOD NEWS, HOPES FOR THE FUTURE!

 How weird. According to all the tests your girl had yesterday, she is in perfect health--no problems  with her chest x-ray, and she doesn't have Covid or the flu either-- just "some kind of virus," whatever that means. Hmm...will they name it after her? 😁

The nurse did give her a suggestion for treatment--something called Prednisone, which indicates that the medical community might have met with this situation before, so Fiorella will try it out. Let's face it: she has been very sick and will check ANYTHING out!

Now that Fio is settling into recovery, she's looking around at the wreck of her bedroom, which Son L threw a big box of old socks into for her to sort out, and which, of course, she didn't feel like doing. Instead, whining all the while, she searched every area of the house she usually frequented for those Christmas cards from long ago that she told you about, one of which she is thinking of making a new card out of. 

And, SURPRISE, toward the end of the day, she found not only the piece she'd been searching for, but all the others! Now to figure out how to revise herself. To be honest, there's no way she could compose new music as easily as as when she was just out of her composition class, but she hopes she can put together a card that at least has a musical background behind it.

On the other hand, who knows what will happen? Your girl has been seen tramping into the piano room more frequently of late, so let's hope there will be a total revival of her compositional talents!

Sickness, Sickness, Sickness

 Things are looking better for your girl. Son L drove her to the local regional clinic and she got examined right, left, and sideways, but there haven't been any calls back so far. The nasal problem is what she is most concerned about, but there are probably some other things she will also have to attend to. After all, Fio's no spring chicken--although she does her best to look like one.😊😁😁

Fiorella's rooms--the study and her bedroom--are a mess, but that's what happens when you've been sickish. Give her a couple of days and she'll have everything ship-shape...well, ALMOST ship-shape, being that your girl is always coming up with new ideas to try out. Sigh...

Her next project will probably be experimenting with the city's transportation program for older people. It's cheap, and would take a lot of pressure off Son L, her current chauffeur, but will it be reliable? After all, your girl got herself all excited about the city's Senior Activity Center, but it turned out to be a bust. (IF FIO, WHO'S HAD A FAIR AMOUNT OF EXPERIENCE WITH VARIOUS PROJECTS HAD BEEN IN CHARGE, SHE WOULD HAVE MADE IT WORK!)

Son was clearing out storage today and Fiorella got a a big load of socks--probably dating back to the stone age--dumped on her bed today and now she has to sort them out and tuck the winners away. But where? Her bedroom is so small that she doesn't even have a chair in it, and the study/studio is lost in its own mess. Yep, it's amazing how quickly a room goes awry when one gets sick.

Cough, cough.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not a Great Day...

What happened? Fiorella wrote out five long paragraphs yesterday and then somehow they all got cleared away! Is there some kind of taboo against describing her constant coughing and horrible dreams? Has her computer turned against her? To bring you up to date, she is still sick, but Son L has bought a humidifier and put it next to her bed, which has helped her with breathing and the bad dreams. Now, if the the coughing would disappear.

Whatever, Fio treads on--but now, it appears she has tromped on the calla lilies she thought she had taken special care to avoid. And to top it off, she sent one of Granddaughter's friends away from the door because she thought the rest of the family was away from home when they we outside looking at the calla lilies. Ah, the problems of communal living.

Wish your girl well--she'll be seeing a doctor tomorrow, hopefully not one of the tribe she dealt with earlier. There's got to be some way to heal her!

Fiorella would like to end this issue on a high note, but when she was packing away the groceries that Son had bought for her mini refrigerator, she tried to balance on her bad knee, the one that's been operated on--she learned it was STILL a bad knee. Yeah, she couldn't stand up from it and, after crawling out of her study, had to scream for help. 

Well, at least your girl keeps the Facial Tissues people in business.....

 

Up and Down and Round About!

 Don't expect much from Fiorella today--she is sick, sick sick, and so is the rest of the family, except they aren't quite as sick as she is. Son L thinks our plague is the result of not drinking enough water, but Fio blames it on those nasty germs. 

The only good thing about the situation is that your girl must have lost a couple of pounds or two, but she's also lost her voice, is sleepy all the time, and has used up almost a whole box of Kleenex. 

She also, obviously, can't sing with the church choir she's adopted right now, so Fio being Fio, she's hoping (and praying) she gets better in a couple of days. In the meantime, she's learned a few things that might come in handy for you some day--like that a can of Coke drunk slowly can clear that nasty taste that piles up in your mouth when you're sicky. (Actually, your girl's mother taught her that years ago and she just now remembered it.) 

Whoopee! Son just asked Fiorella a question and she was able to gargle out a couple of words in response! Is the worm turning?! How exciting! 

Whew! Now to clean up her bedroom, which had turned into a teen-age-like dump during your girl's time of terror.