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--😁
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