BEGGING FOR HELP !!!

(1) FIORELLA IS TAKING A BREAK FROM TV UNLESS SOMETHING REALLY INTERESTING   COMES ALONG.......

(2) YOUR GIRL IS BORED, BORED, BORED AND NEEDS A JOB, JOB, JOB! 

(3) HOW CAN FIO GET TOGETHER WITH RELATIVES AND OLD FRIENDS WHEN SHE CAN'T DRIVE ANYMORE?

 (4) Fio's only thrill right now is (1) the absolutely delicious pre-cooked turkey slices she bought at H-E-B, and (2) and the fact that she is actually finishing up a portrait of her mother that she started on at least ten years ago. (It's sort of an abstract, which your girl seldom attempts, so cross your fingers that Eileen's spirit won't give her daughter a hard time.)

(5) Whatever, please, please, please, FIND A JOB (and a driver), FOR YOUR GIRL! SHE IS SO BORED!

WHERE IS EVERYONE FIORELLA USED TO KNOW?

 Sorting through a box of short stories your girl had written way back when, Fiorella found a very special one--a sci-fi, which she'd totally forgotten--so, of course, she took two hours out of her day to read every word of it just in case it was a hidden treasure. But it wasn't. Sigh....

(Ah well, maybe some of it might be usable when sci-fi becomes stylish again--or is it still stylish, but Fiorella who's out of style?)

For your enjoyment: Little Red Ridinghood started out on the path to Grandmother's house, even though Henny Penny warmed her that the sky was falling. Fortunately, she was able to seek shelter with her friend Goldilocks in the Three Bear's house, but when the clock struck twelve, their friend Cinderella turned into a Pumpkin and lost her shoe. 😁   (Clumsy but cute.)

Turn About: The last human beings had died in a nuclear died eons ago, and the steaming planet had revolved silently for fifteen million years--revolved and evolved so that dinosaurs were burning the carbonized remains of humanity to fuel their vehicles. (Think about it.)

Alone, alone, alone, and Fio's only visitors are two little girls who politely asks for the child of the house in turn. Is there anyone who remembers Fiorella as a neighbor, a friend, a helper, a teacher, a writer, an artist, a performer, a singer and composer, a human being?

 

 

Under the Weather

FIORELLA got bushed today, and even sorting through her pile of old short stories, she can't find anything worthwhile to feed you. Her own life wasn't that interesting either, although she did have to sit in her diver's car for about half an hour before she, said driver, and Son L could carry her weekly food rations into the house.

So, in other words, your girl's day was thumbs down. Hope your day was better.

 

Somewhat of a Downer

 This has hasn't been a great day for Fiorella--not only because she forget to publish yesterday's piece, but also because her daughter-in-law, with her son's knowledge, messed with your girl's inside entry-way set-up decoration, which has wounded Fio to the core--and the only thing she can do about it is cry.

How can Fio make herself immune? Will she have to move out? Where can she go? What can she affort? Could she be self-efficient? This is NOT what your girl expected when she merged in with son's family three years or so back. Maybe it's time to think about a break up.

On the other hand, Son was VERY nice about getting Fio's new camera set up. Your girl had no idea that everything was so complicated, and in fact, there's one small last step that will have to wait for a week or more. Yep, Fiorella has really been behind the times.....

She's also a little clumsy and has slopped a half-cup of chocolate milk onto the rug next to her mini-refrigerator. Ah well, it should be dry by tomorrow.....

Sorry to burden you with all Fiorella's worries and woes. Things will get better or they won't, and there's nothing any of us can do about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BIts and Pieces

Oops--this was yesterday's blog.......

 

To be blunt, why is Fiorella coughing up so much yucky phlegm but not losing any weight? 😠

Hip-hip-hooray! With the aid of Son L, Fio was finally able to get hold of two important little bottles waiting for her at Walgreens. One of the bottles was three days late because of a scarcity and the other one was a simple double pick-up that😌 frequently runs out.

DANG! Fio forgot to buy another one of those dark red lipsticks she's almost out of, but Friday is her shopping day so she can skip over to Walgreens after she's finished her grocery shopping, pick one up, and be beautiful again. 😊

 Your girl is not pleased with PopEyes. Son L took a quick drive over there to order the family supper while she was waiting (and waiting, and waiting, in the pill line-up) and Fio asked for her usual WHITE MEAT, but when Son unwrapped supper at home, the best that hungry Fio could get was a thigh. GRRRRR! Maybe your girl should switch back to hamburgers.😞

Okay, Fio will confess--when she was in the store, she also bought something called a "skin tag remover patch" which is supposed to do away with things like the sudden white mole that popped up on Fiorella's right cheek a couple of months ago--but now your girl is nervous about using it. Any volunteers? 😁

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love Makes the World Around !

Here's another enticing passage from Fiorella's romance WHERE THE HEART LEADS:

Rafe didn't bother with the menu--he knew it by heart--which gave him a few extra minutes to study Moira as she read through hers, page by page.

His little soldier was game. She was enjoying the outrageous ambience of the restaurant just as she'd accepted dress-up night at Omar's. Texans knew what their image was to the world, and they enjoyed pushing it to the limit--and Moira was getting a kick out of playing along, She'd fit right in--maybe he could convince her to stay around for a while--like permanently. He might not be in the market for a wife, right now, but there was no getting around it that he wanted Moira in his bed--and a mound of sweet-smelling hay would work just as well. 💗💗💗

And here are a few passages from WHAT THE HEART WANTS, which was actually Fiorella's first novel

 

Laurel switched on the porch light and opened the heavy door enough to see a bedraggled teenager with tangled yellow curls and big, apprehensive eyes standing in front of her. Good grief! She looked like a fashion ad gone mad: shiny pink shorts, a bandana halter top in a black-and-white splashy print, dangling pink plastic earrings that glowed in the dark, flip-flops glittering like the Fourth of July, one hand carrying a bulging pink backpack, and the other other hoisting a Louis Vuitton shoulder bag. 😕😕😕

 Your girl has a couple more stories in mind so don't  be surprised if she spouts a couple more romances.

💗💗💗💗💗💗

IN CASE YOU NEED TO KNOW.....

 Have mercy on Fio--she knows she's sweaty, and is pretty sure that she's still sick too. None-the-less, she put all her dirty clothes into the washer because otherwise, she'd have to run around naked tomorrow.  Ahh, modern living....

Your girl made a nice trip around the cul-de-sac this afternoon, but forgot to put the two envelopes that she was clutching tightly in her hand into the neighborhood mailbox as she passed by. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.

 

Another poem by Fiorella-----

    

  IN CASE YOU NEEDED TO KNOW

  How to suffocate the clown:

First you push its head way down

Deep into the shiny box

Until the mechanism locks.

   Then you tuck the box away--

Where you wish for it to stay

For Jacks are troublesome, at best, 

Embarrassing when there are guests. 

   When all that I have said is done,

Hold your tongue and tell no one

Tell not a soul what you're about,

 For he might let the damn Jack out

        And that is how to handle the latter

         But the poet herself is a different matter!😄

FOR TODAY....

 YOUR GIRL IS BACK AGAIN! Not only can she breathe better, but she's had a nice long-distance talk with her friend in Colorado, the one whose family has grazed their cows on Fio's husband's family's lands since before your girl was even born. (And by the way--owning a quarter of a ranch isn't as glamorous--or as productive--as it sounds, although wicked Fio likes to flip it in the face of uppity people every now and then!😜)

Hurray, hurray! Fiorella has just taken down her sixth pill and it's obvious that she's halfway through whatever it is that attacked her vocal cords and overwhelmed her throat with mucus. .Just a couple more days of that big lump of white that the doctor prescribed and she should be able to sing again....hopefully.😛

But right now, Fio is going to try to gather up some friends--not just to take her to choir practice, but also to talk to when she is melancholy, rejoice with her when she is on top of the world, and laugh herself silly when she feels like it. Any volunteers?😔

 Changing the subject, Fiorella--whose own family was shattered by the UT Tower Shooting back in 1966, had it all ripped open for her again when she read that the families of the Uvalde massacre are having to wait as long as thirteen hours in order to testify in court! YEAH--hide those dead children under a bloody blanket while you prepare your next run for office, Governor Greg Abbott!😠

 

YUCK!

Fiorella's brain 

 Has gone down the drain

Taking loads of mucus with it

So if this poem

Hits you at home

See a doctor, get a pill, and honk it!

(PS: Did I post this bit of wisdom the other day?)

Odds and Ends to Think About

      The Ever-lasting Cold

  Fiorella's brain

  Has gone down the drain

  Taking loads of mucus with it--

  So if this poem

   Hits you at home

   See a doctor, take a pill, and resist it!

 

       Two Weeks After Miscarriage

Sometimes I wake up in the early morning---

And cry, unable go back to sleep despite the pills,

 The calming darkness, or the warmth

Of my husbands arm's holding me close,

Then, losing the trail of my gown as

I leave the bed and go to the kitchen to weep

For the baby that never was.

           January 27, 6:32 am

 

Defiance          

Quiet as the grave that will hold me fast

When death has dumbed the drumbeat of my blood,

Beneath the soundless soil, still at last,

I'll sink in silence toward the muffling mud--

But until then, I'll clatter through your halls

And shout hello to friends and wail goodbye

I'll laugh aloud within your stately walls

And shriek my anger to the sombre sky--

The dead are not notorious for their noise

So I will lie a long time quietly,

But until then, I'll use my loudest voice

And make the whimpering world resounds to me--

     So when at last I'm muted by the all-absorbing ground,

     My unaccustomed silence then will deafen you with sound!

 1982

 

          

NOW YOU WILL LEARN ALL!

 It's amazing how quickly Fiorella can fill a waste paper basket, but yes, your girl is still sick--coughing and snorting sick, with mucus still plugging her nose--and (dang it) that second pill she got yesterday isn't supposed to be used until today after supper. So, honk, honk, please send good thoughts toward Fio's nose.

Meanwhile, Fiorella has been thinking--a very dangerous occupation for the world in general--but this time she is thinking  about churches in general. Your girl grew up Missouri Synod Lutheran, a relatively mild church back then with its outstanding negative being that women couldn't speak in the in the pulpit, etc. After a quick perusal of her handy computer, Fio has discovered that the synod of her youth has somewhat lifted its ban on women, but it's too late--your girl has already joined a more liberal synod.

Daughter-in-law asked Fio not to sneeze when she's in the kitchen because it can cause germs to spread, but, in the first place, Fiorella always tries to cover her sneeze with a napkin, toilet paper or her hand, and in the second place, once someone in a household contracts a germ, it's going to spread, no matter what! 

 Hmm....Son, Daughter-in-law, and Granddaughter travel outside the house more than Fiorella does,  which means one of them was the carrier!

Hmm 2....Why the heck has Fiorella written a whole blog about her runny nose? Is she planning a whole page on her health? Maybe a poetic voyage through her medical adventures?  (Will she include her scotched face lift?) TUNE IN TOMORROW!

 

NOT MY BEST DAY!!

 Despite being dress to the hilt in a white slacks, a cute back patterned top, and blacks shoes, Fiorella had a bad day today. It started when the doctor told her to take the wonder pill she had prescribed AFTER supper, but Fio took it AFTER she was back at the house instead. And then there was her attempt to cook a FROZEN slice of frozen salmon and sugar treats for supper. And right now, she can't even get a good show on television!

Ah, well--let's hope tomorrow is a better day........

 

TELLING ALL!

Does anyone out there want to trade noses with your girl? Yes, Fio has a cold, the same one she's had for at least a year now--but it's gotten even more irritating. Fio's hoping the nurse who visited her today with a bag under her arm and determination on her face will be able to do the trick.

Fiorella has been working like mad to get her two rooms (bedroom and studio) in shape, hoping that she can set up her art business when the weather gets warmer. Of course, she's taking another look at her writing career too--but would her agent even be interested in her anymore?

 In the meantime, your girl will fill you in on an earlier time in her life when she set  up shop to teach children to sing through Community School voice lessons. Surprisingly, her class was quite popular. "I never sang when I was growing up and we didn't sing at home," one mother explained. "But I feel like I've missed a lot, and so I want my son to learn how to sing." (And learn, he did. Fio also taught him a little about the piano and how to read music.)

The whole situation was both revealing and bizzare  to Fiorella, who'd grown up with her parents herding them outside after supper on nice evenings and entertaining the whole neighborhood with song. 

Luckily, the man Fio married was as musical as she was, although in different areas--and you can bet that all three of their children became good singers. In fact, her daughter performed professionally a couple of times before deciding she didn't want to hoof it on the road

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some Poems from Old Times

1957

Stages of Life--

Why should I grow old and gray

The twilight at the close of day

The rose, full-blown, that falls away

To due-damped grass, and there decay

Rather than the early morn

When the sun is being born?

Stay, O stay, eternal spring

And let me dance 'round the fairies ring 😁

 

I don't drink beer

I don't drink wine

But ply me with chocolate

And I am thine  

2019 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                     There's no safe port in a thunderstorm

No sheltered cove my craft can gain

No mother's arms to keep me warm

And hide me from the pelting rain

 

No tranquil bay to moor the night,

No overgrowth of reed and cane,

No lover's arms to hold me tight

To keep me from the throbbing pain

 

No hope of respite from the sky

No harbor from my tiny boat

No one to hear my desperate cy

And keep my sinking boat afloat . . . .

 

 

                         

 

SOME OLD AND SOME NEW

            Heaven was, well, heavenly, George thought. Each day was just as wonderful as the day before--    the sunrise was always a blushing gold, and the sunset was always a drama of orange and black. Not only that, but the grass was always green and smelled of eternal spring, and when George golfed he always won. To top it all off, his wife never whined and his children were always polite.

    But after a while, the  perfection got somewhat boring. "I really didn't expect that heaven would be so much the same thing all the time," George said to his spirit guide.

    The guide looked at him in surprise. "What made you think this is heaven?" 

 ****************** 

Fiorella has told you that she's had two romances published by a very good label, but what she hasn't told you is that there's a third book, which she never finished because her husband died in early 2000 and somewhere along the way, she was trapped in a snowstorm and nearly died herself. But a fair amount of time has passed since then and she is thinking about finishing off book number three.  We'll see....

In the meantime, your girl is singing with a choir better than she is, staring at all the notes she's hung up on her bedroom wall, writing a blog, arranging her art supplies, doing her laundry, and shuffling back and forth between home and weekly hospital visits. How the heck can Fio make a sexy romance out of this mess?!

*******************

Whew! Fiorella had three different one-hour appointments this afternoon--the blood suckers, the social worker, the physical therapist foot--and SonL was able to get your girl to each one of them on time. 

George, the big sweet Persian who seems to be in love with Fiorella, just entered her room, leaped up on her bed, settled down beside her, and is loudly purring his contentment. Ahhh....contentment!

*******************

ERATIC COMPLAINING

 

Why is everything going wrong for Fiorella, when all her life, she's tried to do the right thing? 

     She even  made a fool of herself in church this morning when she (1)) kept losing her place in the choir pages and (2) when she couldn't find her purse, which was just where she'd left it. Now, your girl can usually forgive herself her idiocies by heading toward the TV and switching on some clever movie--but  SHE'S USED ALL THE SHOWS UP!

So, now you know--Fio is lonely, lonely, lonely, and, thanks to a bad eye which prohibits her from driving, there's no way for her to zoom around town to visit with her friends--if she has any left after living way up in Georgetown for so many years.

Remember me? The woman who used to pitch her canvas at art shows out in the the open? Maybe you have some of my work on display in your home--or maybe you have a dim memory of me as a PTA president, or one of your college teachers. Yep, Fio was all over the place, doing everything she could to make the world what she thought was a better place. (Okay, she was a writer too, and a major name published two of her hot romances.)

Sorry that Fiorella is being so hectic, but as she said, she's lonely.

CATCHING UP WITH YOU!

 Guess what?! Fiorella was playing with her newly fixed computer and saw her favorite hair stylist listed. It will take a little time for your girl to set up transportation, of course, but come hell or high water, she's determined to get an appointment with her.

Yep, your Fio is going to try to rejoin the human race again. Thus, this afternoon, she also spent far too many hours going through the stacks of blank, semi-blank, and unreadable "to do" plans, which made her lose out on her daily walk--but it was worth it. Otherwise those crumpled pages would never have reached the ceiling until next month.

Besides, Fiorella has other things she needs to tend to, like cleaning out her salon, preparing for her church choir, and starting a new semi-romance --we'll see. Your girl has been pulling some of her old romances out of her file drawers, and some of them look like good fodder. Of course, they wouldn't have the same edge as those that Fio wrote before her husband died, she was caught in the snowstorm for four days, her dog died, and she was living in her own house.

Fio is feeling pretty good right now--not only is her bedroom in good shape (for once), but she's also gotten a fare amount done in her studio, the large room that is the haven for not only her writing, but for her paintings, books about foreign languages, and even musical compositions--although the latter always seem to end up at her old piano at some time or other. 

So, now it's time for bed, and Fiorella has used up most of the available movies--at least the ones with a blue line drawn under them. So, if you know of any other really good shows, let your girl know--OK?

 

 

FIORELLA IS A GOOD WRITER, BUT MECHANICS ARE BEYOND HER

 Apologizing for blank page all day, but I couldn't get on line until Son L fixed the computer problem for me this evening. Will try to make up for everything tomorrow.😞

Apologizing again--Son L had to fix the machine. Your girl didn't pay attention to warning signals and suffered for it.

Excuse My Mess

 Your girl read through a fair part of the paperback she wrote a while back and guess what--it isn't as bad as she'd thought it was--and you'll probably hear more about it later.

George, the Persian Lord of Fiorella's bedroom, has huddled tightly next to her side as if there's a winter storm in the making. What is going on with this animal?

Got yanked away from the computer and didn't get to finish the rest of my blog. See you tomorrow!

SADNESS AND JOY

 At the Beach

     At dawn I walk the ocean's edge

    To find my place along the shore

    The place where I will sit all day

    And sculpt my kingdom made of dreams

    Until the evening tide returns

    And sinks my castle built on sand

 

WHERE THE HEART LEADS

      Moira smiled as she walked up the wide steps of the imposing yellow building. Her life had changed a lot since the first time she's entered the portals of the Bosque Bend Museum--and it was all for the better. Her costume had changed too. The weather was springtime warm so she'd worn a short crimson dress with a stylishly flared skirt. No need for her sari dress or sensible shoes anymore--she was flying high: "Gift of the Magi" was a hit and she was engaged to Red Rafe.💗💗💗

 

WAHOO! Fiorella picked up a walking mate today on her travel around  the cul-de-sac--a woman about her own age who's lived in the area about four or five years! Let's see what happens.

 

AND FIORELLA HERSELF WILL DO ALL SHE CAN TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE

PAINTING, CUL-DE-SAC, POSIBLE SERIES, SHORT STORIES?, GLASSES

 In addition to everything else, Fiorella is starting to paint again--seriously. She's working on a picture of her mother that she may have told you about--the one which she's loaded with red, black, and green.  It may not work, but if so, it your girl can grab her palette and smear a picture of flowers over it--that's the glory of painting: you can always paint over it.😊

Ahem--the nice young man who comes to Fio's house twice a week to get her to exercise her legs and ankles got a surprise when they went outside and she had no trouble at all walking up and down the sidewalk--and even more so when she told him that she usually walked the cul-de-sac every day. Apparently, he'd been told that Fiorella was something of an invalid. (She would have enlightened him earlier, but he could speak Spanish and your girl wanted to catch up on the language, even though it was just the numbers.)😁

Bit by bit, Fio is recovering herself. After she discovered a treasure trove of short stories that she'd written way-back-when and read through them, she put them down and searched out a full-length romance she'd written, wondering if she could get into the game again. Hey--maybe she could start a series!😁

But no--the transportation probably issue would probably remain the same. Besides, your girl has finally gotten those new eye glasses she's been praying for so now maybe she'll concentrate on getting rid of that teen-age pimple that popped up overnight on her right cheek.😕

Wherever, whatever, peace be with you--😁

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Here is the first story in "The Fat Woman Chronicles," a three-story collection that Fiorella wrote way-back-when. Hope you get a kick out of. 

 

                                                    TRANSFERENCE 

Once upon a time there was a fat woman with a big heart, a woman who  carried the weight of the world upon her shoulders, and when she went to a doctor, he sent her to a psychologist who specialized in eating disorders.

The psychologist was a slender woman who had a big heart and, after working with the fat woman for several months, realized that her patient considered herself responsible for the welfare of the world, which she maintained by eating.

"Don't worry about anyone but yourself,"the psychologist told the fat woman. "I will take over your responsibility for the welfare of the world." 

             The next month, the fat woman lost ten pounds--and a terrible earthquake devastated Turkey--but then, earthquakes are always devastating Turkey.

             The woman was so proud of losing ten pounds in one month that she cut back even more and lost another ten pounds--and an out-of-season monsoon hit India and half a million people died. But, of course, half a million is hardly a drop in the bucket in India so the psychologist cheered the fat woman on as she lost twenty pounds more. 

           The fat woman was dieting with a vengeance as the Arab nations wiped each other off the globe with nuclear weapons, Mount St. Helen erupted and California split off from the mainland, the New Madrid fault was reactivated, and riots broke out in New  York, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Detroit, Houston, Los Angeles, and Paducah.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea  for you to lose so much weight at once," the psychologist told her patient as she listened to a broadcaster on her short wave radio speculating as to the nature of the strange blip that was approaching Earth at a fast rate of speed.

"But I want to lose weight and you said you would take care of the world," the former fat woman said, tossing her curls petulantly as she paid her bill, donned her party pink surgical mask, and skipped out of the office, the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. 

           The psychologist watched her patient leave, listened a while longer to the news broadcast, then looked around for something to eat and eat and eat.

ALL SORTS OF THINGS

 When Fiorella was a child, as spring approached, women would make or buy themselves a new hat for spring or what the clothing industry called the Easter parad--and what the musicians transformed into a song, "The Easter Parade." The populace went along with, of course, and thus Fio participated in her share number of the "parades," from leftovers of neighborhood shuffles to school set-ups. Your girl herself, was the star of a couple of little plays put on by her church and neighborhood and another one by her first grade class. Soon afterwords, of course, hats went out of style.....

Right now, Fiorella is looking through a pack of old papers that she'd tucked away long ago, papers which have such titles as "The Biggest Baby in the World," "Harry Potter for Adults," and "The Fat Woman Chronicle," all of which your girl may dump into your lap when she's looking for interesting material. Right now, all she'll say is that being a heavyset woman can have its advantages.

Speaking of weight, Fio's going to feed you a one-pager she wrote a while back called "Diet."

***********************************************************************************

Once upon a time, there was a slender young woman, a good woman, who was married to the man of her dreams. The woman's best friend was fat and unmarried.

"If you lost some weight, Your true nature would be revealed and you would be able to attract a husband as wonderful as mine," the slender young woman said. "I will help you."

So with the encouragement of her slender young friend, the fat woman dieted away one hundred pounds and become became a devastating beauty. She was so devastating, in fact, that she was able to seduce her friend's husband, who left his wife for her.

"How could you do this to me?" the slender young woman complained to her formerly fat friend. "I have been a good friend to you, and I was the one who helped you diet to reveal your true nature."

""Unfortunately," the former fat woman replied, "My true nature is evil."

BEEN OUT WITH RELATIVES THIS EVENING AND AM TOO BUSHED TO WRITE--please excuse me......

Movin' Along

It's cold outside so, of course, Fiorella took a nice walking along the cul-de-sac all alone--but then, she rarely sees anyone out on it even in the best of weather....

Inside the house, Fio is going through her cupboards and drawers and pulling out her many caches of half-finished poems and stories that she packed away when she sold her dream house four years ago. Now, if only she can just remember what wondrous plans she'd had for her new-found foundlings before they were stashed helter-skelter so long ago.

Actually, Fiorella is quite pleased with herself not just because she has found her old papers, but because doing so is one of her benchmarks toward a full life again. Yes, your girl is determined to have a full life again--family. music, art, writing, composition, languages, and all.

Two gorgeous Siamese cats rule the house where Fio now lives so she knows that it's impossible for her to bring a dog into the family now, but your girl hopes she has a nice, happy dog in her future. (She'd also like a nice, happy gentleman caller in her own future.

In the meantime, your girl is dealing with a family feud, which hurts her heart because she loves ALL her children.😟 😟😟

 

 

 

FIO, THE ROMANCE WRITER

 It's getting darker and darker outside and Fiorella has no time to jiggle her brain and come up with a new topic so she'll give you a few juicy pages from one of her romance books:

Moira drove up to the intersection, caught a green light for once, and took a right.

Halfway up the driveway, the car in front of her slowed down as it approached a break in the evergreen thicket, then turned into BUY-GET-5-FREE.

Moira did a double take. In the dark, when Rafe had parked in the clearing to state his case, the scene had looked like a Maurice Sendak jungle, but in the bright afternoon sunlight, it looked more like a Norman Rockwell slice of America. A string of lights outlined the lot, two RVs, and a Porta-Potty were packed under the trees in the back of the lot, and several customers were lined up at the sales counter. Apparently, Bosque Bend celebrated Halloween with a big bang.

Astrid wove her hair into a long braid and tossed it over her shouldeer.

"How much farther?"

"Just a couple more miles. Watch for Colby Road on the left. It may be hard to see."

Actually. the road was clearly marked, and after another mile, Moira turned into the entrance to the C Bar M Ranch.

 Every bit of moisture in her mouth dried up.

Calm down, Moira. This is just a courtesy visit to your bosses' home. Well, also to a guy who'd propositioned her the first day they met, who made her blood run hot and her mouth go dry whenever she thought of him, which was way too often.

The outside of the house was faced with a hard-surfaced material that had the look of sun-baked adobe, while large, dark windows and long, iron-railed balconies punctuated its smooth lines and rounded corners. Four wide steps led up to the covered porch that stretched the width of the house and several oversized urns of purple caladiums sat on either side of the giant front door.

 And Rafe, Mr. Cool, was sitting upfront, waiting for them.....😊

You can probably write the rest of the story yourself 😊😊😊😊😊😊

FROM MEDICINE TO MAGIC!

Son L has arranged for a bevy of medical assistants to come to the house and check Fio from time to time and today was that wicked left knee's turn. Apparently, it's making progress, but still has a bit to go--now if your girl could just take care of the her dang panic as easily. Does anyone out there have a solution? 

Right now, it's hard for Fio to type because the house's big white Persian has wiggled under your girl's arm and is nesting there. Ah, well, it's nice to be popular......

Hooray! Son L will be giving Fio a ride to choir practice this evening, rough throat and all!

Your girl has affixed three straw crosses to her front window and, though sparse, the scene works. Maybe she'll even be able to add some scenery in the next couple of days. How about some tinfoil for background? What do YOU do for outside Easter decorations?

Has Fiorella told you about this really good movie (TV, of course) which features a (yum!) handsome, unmarried warlock and a pretty psychologist who doesn't know she has the powers? It's called YOU CAST A SPELL ON ME. Try it--you'll like it!

 

EASTER'S ON ITS WAY!

 Has Fio screwed up her Blogg again? Apparently she missed yesterday----unless she somehow sent it off to the next day to greet her ahead of time.....😟

Actually your girl has spent most of her time today taking down the remains of an attempted Easter Rabbit parade across the window of her art room, which didn't work out, but there's always tomorrow. And by the way, how about you trying to make your own Easter decorations this year? All you need is paper, scissors, Scotch Tape, and gumption! 😊

Our beloved half-retired pastor dropped by to visit us this afternoon and passed out sandal-wood crosses to us, which Fio especially appreciated because we're going through a difficult situation within the family right now.😔

Happy days--the blood-drawing nurse checked out your girl's production this morning, and Fio's still in good condition, so much such that the powers-that-be have moved her up from weekly to monthly. (Wondering if she'll be off the hook fairly soon.😊

😊Remembering Easter as a child--rushing down stairs when our parents gave us the signal, claiming our baskets, discovering not only the colorful eggs hidden in the green, but the CHOCOLATE! 

Oh, did Fiorella ever tell you that one Easter, our family had about three real live bunnies hopping around our front yard? Truly an Easter to remember.💗

FIORELLA's FAVORITE REPRINTED

 As you have probably guessed, Fiorella has been having a bad time lately--not even her clever plan for decorating the front house's front window for Easter with two fake bunny rabbits, a big batch of fake flowers for each side, and her beautiful India Indian shawl draped gracefully across the back of the scene has worked. Nothing to do but close herself into the piano room and try to screech up to that "f" she used to to fling about with such joyful abandon.

In times like theses, there's only one way for Fiorella to turn: to Flying High, her Christmas greeting from two years back. ENJOY!

     I cannot write a merry poem this year

Too much has happened in my life--

Uprooted in a home that I held dear

And now a widow, who was once a wife

   Change is not my forte, my options few--

 A clock cannot run backwards, nor can I,

Thus I must I must gird myself and start anew

To see how high my warming kite can fly

   Too late, they say, your day is almost done

Pull down your kite and rest yourself a while--

Go take a break from shining in the sun-- 

Enjoy yourself before your final mile,

    And as they lecture, I slip quiet by

    And launch my kite into the eager sky....

 

MAYBE, MAYBE, MAYBE FIORELLA'S MUSICAL TALENT WILL SHOW ITS FACE AGAIN

 Not much change in your girl's world except that it was suddenly announced that everyone in the house but Fio will be spending the next couple of days out at the local circus. Now, it isn't that Fio likes the circus, but that, as you know, she doesn't want to be left alone in a neighborhood where nobody knows her name....

The situation will also leave her alone with no way to get to that musically-oriented church that Son L has already picked out as ideal for your girl's soprano soul. 

HEY! Remember Stormy Daniels? Regarding the larger and earlier negative hoop-la's, Fio never guessed that Trump would ever allow her to rise again. After all, their relationship was not presidential--but here she is! (Hmm, whatever happened to Mrs. Trump and the son?)

Fiorella is backing off nighttime TV shows for a while. She just can't find any new--or old ones--that she likes. In fact, they make her feel like she's wasting her time--but, on the other hand, she doesn't know what else she can be doing to save the world when (1) she doesn't drive anymore, (2) lives in a modest home, and (3 ) has no important contacts anymore. 

Enjoyed singing with the Methodist choir today. The director and pianist are fantastic and the singers are not only nice, but of high musical caliber--just what a long-delinquent soprano your girl needs to inspire her. Hmm...also wonder if Fio could foist a few of her Cradle songs on said gentlemen this Christmas?