A Better Day

What a day so far, and the best part of it was the early celebration of Sister-in-Law's birthday. We showed Patsy and Bill around the new house, talked about everything had been going on in our lives, laughed a lot, and indulged in a chocolate-frosted cake. What more can you ask for?

 We won't be moving another storage load into the garage this week so Fiorella has decided to start working on the arts and crafts room, which is full to the brim. Nevertheless, she's hoping to at least dig out some good books and rescue a few paintings.

 Hooray, hooray--the shoe rack is on its way!

Fio has sent her heartbeat check-up results to Medtronic. She'll keep you posted.

Son L just brought your girl (who is the champion scissors-loser of the world) yet another pair. Sooner or later, he's going to catch on that she's selling them to underdeveloped countries for twice the price. 😁

Time Marches On...Again

 Fio, who knows how to stage a scene, dressed in her best clothes, then spent the whole day working like a dog on her bedroom for Daughter's visit. Said daughter complimented the room, but little did she know it was all a charade.

Fiorella and Son L have de-boxed most of Mother's pretties and kitchenware, but, as Fio had predicted to herself, most of them were things Son's wife already has or does not want. Fiorella understands that kitchen cupboards can only hold so much, but she weeps not only for the fate of the lovely glass and porcelains but also for the long hours she wasted carefully packaging each and every one of them. 

Okay, Fiorella will admit it--she ate two chocolate bars for lunch today and two for supper, even though she knew they'd kick up that dang gerd again. (They may call it "upset stomach," but Fio labels it "depression.")

Pray for Fiorella. There are still two rooms full of boxes of non-kitchen items to be plowed through.

 On the other hand, although Fio wants it to be adjusted and have some touch-ups, one of your girl's paintings is hanging in the front door entry hall now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Negatives

Fiorella's TV won't let her watch anything but British shows, mostly murder mysteries.

Your girl opened up another packing box today and discovered that her mother's cut-glass bowl with the silver base had cracked in transport.

Sonia Dog gave Granddaughter a bit of a bite in a quarrel over a treat. B was trying to take it from Fio to give it to Doggie herself, but Doggie thought she was stealing the goodie for herself. 

The ranch check still hasn't arrived. Apparently it's been held up in some sort of postal ring-around-the roses.

Fiorella is the of victim of relentless deprivation, and if God is testing her, she is failing. There's too much on her shoulders, too much on her back--the new house, the unfinished move, the postal mess, the pandemic, her own aging....you name it.

 

Cautiously Optimistic

 Even through The Snowstorm was more than three months ago, Fiorella cannot let it go--death looked her in the face, and that's something that's hard to forget.

Your girl is forging full-steam ahead with the decoration of her bedroom. She's added more pictures down the side of the big window and has decided to make the narrow sitting sill into a mini library and is considering installing The Best Is Yet to Be banner (from her and Husband's anniversary a while back) above the window.

Under another name, Fio is doing her best to make everyone aware of the deliberate slowing down of postal service under the guidance of Postmaster Louis deJoy--the one who destroyed all those sorting machines.  Your girl still hasn't received some very important papers mailed almost a month ago, and her various credit payments are running late because they didn't arrive in her mailbox till past their due date.

How I loved my Soaker Tub/ Good for a soak, good for a scrub. But Fio couldn't take the tub with her when she moved back to Austin so she's hoping there will be enough $$$ left over after she's settled in to get one of those glorious tubs installed down the hall.

Happy days are here again...hopefully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

F

Old Lady Blues

Will we ever get through with the unpacking? Will we ever get things put away where they should be? Will we ever have a nice looking home?  

I'm a perfectionist, I'll confess

And I can't stand living in a mess

So excuse me please while let off steam

And step outside to scream, scream, scream

Son L drove Fiorella to HEB to pick up Kleenexes, salmon, and fresh bread, then tossed in a couple of chocolate bars for good measure. Guess what was devoured as soon as Fio got home

 

I can't see as well as I used to see

And my stride is hitched by a busted knee

My shoulders are bent and my voice is caught

My memory doesn't work as well as it ought 

Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm blue

But I love you as much as I used to do💗

 

 

This and That, Not That Much Fat

Your girl is closing in on those varmints who keep telling her that she's behind in her credit card payments. Yep, Fio  spent half her afternoon plowing through her checkbook and making notes. Sic'm, Fiorella!

In between times, Fiorella was lugging boxes of the most recent storage delivery out of the garage and into the already over-flowing parlor and the arts-and-crafts room. Then--she'll confess it--she watched another Martin Cluves show on TV.

A Girl of the Limberlost, the book Fio mentioned yesterday, was published in 1909, but Fiorella's edition was a Christmas present when she was in seventh grade. Later on, she read her mother's books--romantic best sellers, which, looking back, were questionable literature for a budding teenager.

Your girl wants to make a fabric shoe rack that can hang harmlessly from the inside of her closet door and hold nine pairs of shoes--maybe even twelve. The rack itself would have to be enforced by a rod, of course, but the weight of the shoes would keep the pouches from flapping. 

Now, if you'll excuse her, Fio will get ready for bed, turn out the lights, and check out yet another Martin Clunes movie she's found.

 

 

 

 

 

Keeping Up with Fio

 Fiorella thinks that every one and every thing that is in the least sentient wants to be useful and appreciated. Thus, she makes it a point to thank elements of nature as well as people and animals.

Can someone out there please set up a private--and reliable--postal system? Your girl is tired of being told she hasn't paid off her credit card when she can open up her checkbook and see that she has. And then there's Fio's long-term leaser in Colorado whose check has not shown up, despite her mailing it three weeks ago. Let's face it--deJoy and Trump's/Putin's plan to disrupt the US postal system is working.

Fiorella couldn't go to sleep last night so she wandered into her mess of her future art studio, writing nook, and library in the wee hours and grabbed the only book she could find loose on the shelves--A Girl of the Limberlost--which she hadn't read in years. At the time, she had loved it, but now being a published author herself, she couldn't help but give it a running critique. The writing wasn't up to today's standards, but the story still held. Romance is romance💗

Yahoo! Doggie's pills and special food came in today. Poor girl--she's been in pain. 

Apparently Martin Clunes the star of Doc Martin, is such a big deal in British theater scene that his character usually uses his own first name. Hmm...must consult British friend Suzy for more information.

 

 

 

Meandering

 It's four o'clock in the morning, and Fiorella is berating herself for every dumb, mean, and stupid thing she's ever said, done, or written. She's also mentally singing the Wolf's song in the Three Little Pigs children's operetta she wrote and performed in--which reminds her that years later, it was discovered that one of Son L's best friends had been among the preschool children for whom the show was performed. It also reminds her that she is still in touch with friend Maqua (who aided and abetted Fio's musical escapades) even though they now live about five states apart. It's also how your girl and friend Marion struck up a long-lasting friendship, despite now being on opposite ends of the political spectrum. It also makes her wonder where everyone else in the chorus is now and if any pictures of our performances are still around. Whatever, best wishes to all.

Sonia Dog is having more and more trouble climbing into bed with Mommy at night. Hoping to find her step-stool among the next storage load.  

Whoopee! Fiorella's heart monitor has arrived, which means there's hope for the old gal yet!

Fio and Daughter-in-Law, who are not fond of the over-tall doors in the new house, are talking transoms somewhere down the line. 

Adventures with Fiorella

 As usual, your girl is totally overloaded. For some reason, her vet has not come through with the special food that she said she'd send for Sonia Dog. In addition, Fio needs to get her heart and hematoma checked out, her driver's license address changed, the Colorado ranch brought up to date, and open still more boxes brought in from the garage.

One bright light in Fiorella's world--after running out of Doc Martin reruns and going through all the crappy British murder mysteries she could bear, she ran across one of actor Martin's earlier television movies. Interestingly enough, he plays a physician named Martin in this show as well as the one she'd already watched, and both stories are also set on the Cornwell coast. Also interesting is that several of the actors are the same, but playing different roles. Fio's already identified Doc's thoughtful Aunt Ruth in the current show as the nasty old lady in the first show.

Another bright light--Fio visited both of her banks and, with no trouble at all, picked up enough single checks to tide her over her until her checkbooks arrive. It was weird going into a bank and receiving immediate attention, though. Your girl had called earlier to be sure XXX was still open, and when she got there, a guy came out front, waved her a welcome, then gestured her inside. Only in a pandemic....

You should have seen Fiorella ripping the tape off her storage boxes and hauling things inside--not that she and Son L aren't doing that every day, but now Fio has the satisfaction of seeing how little there is left in the garage--except for the next load, of course. Sixteen tons, Whatta ya get....

Speaking of singing, your girl's eyes glistened when she found her Leontyne Price record collection still intact.

 

 

 

 

Emoji Low-down

 😠Oh, great! The American Statesman is delivering Fio's newspaper again, but today, the comics section didn't make it. How the heck could anyone forget to print Luann?

💗Glorious words.  Son L complemented your girl's outfit and asked her if she'd lost weight!

 😒What's next for Fio's day? Straightening out a credit card problem which was probably caused by The Snowstorm and her address change.

😢Fiorella was a born romantic. From second grade on, she had a crush on some boy or other in her class, which usually ended up in weeping embarrassment when she accidentally revealed herself. The scars run so deep that she can still remember their names

 

😠I hope that the roomba 

That buzzes my room-a

And tries to bust open my door 

Will, not later, but soon-a

Meet with it's doom-a

And be ashes on the floor

 

 

 

 

From Wardrobe to Courtroom.

 Fiorella is not happy. Her adult-sized wardrobe does not fit in a child-sized closet. Adjustments will have to be made.

It seems to be impossible for Fio to move forward. Instead, she has to wallow around and wait. Drastic solutions may be needed to get her ball rolling.

Your girl is handling two. bills she paid that somehow didn't get paid, which scares her to death.

The British mysteries, which have kept Fio semi-sane during this wait-and-see settling-in period, have run their course, and your girl is on the lookout for something else to calm her fractured nerves. Any suggestions?

So happy about THE VERDICT!

 

 

 

Negative

 Not that great a day--so far, at least. One of Daughter-in-law's cats, which suffered from more problems than any of us imagined, had to be put down, and Fiorella had a half-hour long wait to talk to her medical contraptions people, topped by one of those visual headaches that make you half sick. Needless to say, D-I-Law wasn't too happy either.

Fio and Son L have been working on the latest load of her belongings taken out of storage. Your girl has been glad to see that her oil paintings--at least the ones so far--have survived their journey, but, sadly, a couple of them got scrape marks in the process😞

Son L had to drive Fiorella over to the bank this afternoon so she could correct a mistake it had made on her account. 😒

Your girl is not impressed by the current British murder mystery shows, especially the ones that try to modernize titles like Miss Fisher, Midsomer Murders, and Hercule Poirot--or it may be that Fio's has had her fill of the who-done-its.

There's a good chance that Fiorella will never drive again. It was easy to get around in Georgetown, but Austin is a different matter, especially since Fio now lives in a part of the city with which she's totally unfamiliar.

 

 

 

Art, Literature, Buttercups, British TV, Chocolate

Son L and Daughter picked up some of Fiorella's paintings from storage today, and she's planning how to display them to their best advantage. Fio is flattered that Daughter, also an artist, wants some of them too, but Fio gets first dibs. And maybe, somewhere along the line, your girl will inspired to turn out a few additional masterpieces

Fio's romances and poetry are dribbling in from her storage boxes now, as is her library of linguistic studies. Somewhere along the line, her music studies will also be turn up....she hopes.

Granddaughter invited the next-door neighbor girls in to play in the backyard, and they spent most of their time picking buttercups, which sounded like a good deal until they asked for cups to put the flowers in--and not just any cup but a red one like Granddaughter was sporting. Luckily, Fio had others for back-up. Thank you, HEB!

Now that Doc Martin is off for the season, Fiorella is checking out British TV series. The new Midsomer Murders is a wash-out and the new Miss Fisher is stupid. The Vicar of Dibley, a comedy, is okay, but it gets a little too silly sometimes. On the other hand, no one is killed. 

Fio couldn't sleep last night because she's eaten a giant chocolate bar and, because she did the same thing today, she'll probably be equally sleep-deprived again tomorrow. Unfortunately, she's fallen into the habit of running for chocolate whenever anything troubles her.

 

Another Electrical Outage

 So, the Texas power grid is acting up again, which means we'll have a hotter-than-ever summer. All of this could be remedied, of course, but then the big dogs wouldn't be raking in as much under the table. 

Fiorella has a clock on one wall of her bedroom y uno calendario on the opposite wall. Yup, she's gearing up for action.  Now to redesign her clothes closet.

In the meantime, Fio's still emptying out boxes from the last storage load. There are only about twenty more to go, but your girl can't take care of more than five a day. She's down to books, bedding, and memorabilia now. After that will come the furniture, paintings, and garage stuff.

Odd, but Fiorella keeps thinking she's seen parts of some of those British shows, like Doc Martin and The Vicar of Dibley, before. Again she asks--deja vu, or did she and Husband watch them together in times past?

For the third time this week, Daughter-in-law's big white male cat slipped out of the house unnoticed when Fio opened the door for Sonia Dog to go out into the backyard. And, as in the cat's earlier escapade, Sonia barked and barked until Fio checked out the situation and opened the door for Doggie's pal to re-enter.

 

Reporting In

Day after day, Fiorella, whose moved into a new home, rips open boxes full of books. Yes, your girl has a well-stocked library--adventure, poetry, art, romances, music, languages, school texts, etc. Let's just say that she never found a book she didn't like.

Fio needs to have herself checked out by a doctor, but it's hard to get in anywhere. She can't see her neurologist--or anyone else, it seams--till the end of June.   

Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork--if it's not the taxes, it's the address change or the bills or the leftovers of the house sale.

Lately, your girl's major job has been to tear open storage boxes, then drop off their contents to the appropriate place--bedroom, salon, or parlor--after which she gets rid of the piles of twisted newspapers that she used to protect said items on their journey to Austin.

Fiorella is so afraid of so many things, but all she can do is grit her teeth and march onward.

 

 

Looking Forward

 Fiorella spent half the day going through all the little notes she'd made and scattered around her very small bedroom, but she knows her clean-up will only last until the next load--and the load after that--of her life arrives from storage. Hopefully, after that, your girl will be more organized.

What is especially annoying right now is that Fio, pressed for space, has had to line up a couple of paintings and an extra load of clothes up against the wall of her room. She hasn't found just the right spot for the paintings yet, but her clothes will have to wait till her closet can be remodeled from a child's wardrobe to that of an adult.

Bit by bit, Fiorella is reentering the modern world. Translation: she's learned how to use a universal remote to get to the television shows she wants to see on the big black TV that's hanging over her chest of drawers. Don't laugh--steps, baby steps....

Congratulate Fio! Today is her twelfth day since receiving her second inoculation. She'll still be wearing a mask though--to remind everyone else to socially distance and--well--just in case.

Your girl can hardly wait to set up libraries in her salon, then dive into them, especially the languages. Of course, her half-finished romances, reams of poetry, linguistic papers, and several of her paintings will be there too, but the electric piano will be in the parlor.

 

 

 

 

Problems

 Apparently, Fiorella has a talent for dislocating scissors. While cutting open the pile of her boxes--which have taken over the garage--she has managed to lose both her black pair and the one with the green handles. Pray for her.

At times, Fio grows tired of reality and needs to retreats into her own fairylands--art, music, languages, and reading/writing. Unfortunately, she has not been able to indulge in any of those pastimes lately, but that early morning walk around the neighborhood was refreshing. (And her newspaper arrived.)

Son L and Fiorella walked up to the community mail box while Granddaughter drove her little car at top-notch speed. It's sort of a turn-around from when, as a child, your girl would walk a couple of blocks over to mail her letters, but her father would drop off any other mail on his way to work.

Bracing herself, Fio has made a list of the Austin doctors she needs to consult. Thank goodness she remembers their names--or Son L does. 

Your girl must have screwed up somehow because the special dog food that she thought Sonia Dog's vet was going to send hasn't arrived yet. Sigh--yet another phone call she has to make.

 

 

Linguistics, Art, etc.

Fiorella linguistic ear strikes again! That new character on Doc Martin--her accent was right on, but her attitude was a stereotype and her reference to her homeland as "America" was off base. We call ourselves "Americans," but refer to our country of origin as "the United States." 

For some reason or other, Fio's Russian has been popping up every now and then. Wouldn't it be great if more of her Rooski yazeek came back? Hmm...wonder what it was that made her dip into her language-loving past.

Your girl is working hard on her art studio, clearing out boxes, then taking in yet more loads. Yes, she leaves a trail wherever she goes. 

Ralph, Darlene, Bobby Heyer, and Mrs. Lehman--the important elements of her second grade experience in Akron. Nasty Ralph, whose family lived in the basement of a half-finished church addition, was the one who squashed the robin's egg that Fio passed around in show-and-tell. Darlene was the sad-looking blonde girl who sat in back of her, and whom Fiorella felt so sorry for that she moved her own cover page during a spelling test to let Darlene copy her answers. Mrs. Lehman, who saw what Fio was doing, kept your girl in from recess, which meant she couldn't play boys vs. girls on the playground, with Fio leading the girls and Bobby Heyer, the principle's son, leading the boys. He was her first crush...aside from the paper boy. that is.

Fiorella is still awaiting that calendario that Son L ordered for her last week.

,

 

 

 

 

 

Fiorella's Sorrow

 Aunt Julie had said that she was dividing her estate between her two brothers, but as her time drew nearer, she decided to leave it all to her Ohio brother because he and his family had taken such good care of her. Dad was devastated--he had done what he could from Texas, staying in touch with his sister and visiting her often, but it was not enough. She had made another choice and he cried--not because of the money, but because his big sister had rejected him.

Nevertheless, he loved her and his brother and did not make a fuss.

Fiorella is involved in a similar situation now, but in a different role that breaks her heart. Her three children will be well cared for in her will, but one of them has a greater need, which she accommodated. Her oldest, though, is threatening legal action, giving her great sorrow.

Late Evening News

Your girl spent most of her day cutting open boxes and hauling out remnants of her life. They're sitting in bunches on her studio floor right now, with more of the same tomorrow. She's already spotted some of her favorite books and a good helping of her own stuff, but she's guessing that the major stuff will show up in her second go-through tomorrow.

One of her best discoveries today was a herd of sequined slippers she used to wear. Actually, Fiorella had forgotten about them because they were some of the first things she'd packed when she decided to sell the house and set up housekeeping with Son L and his family.

Can hardly wait to get that wall calendar that Son L ordered. So tired of not knowing what day it is--except for Sunday, of course, because of the full-color comics.

Fio also got a thrill out of rediscovering out some of her minor paintings and she's planning to hang them on her bedroom wall for inspiration. Hmm...maybe she'll repaint the bedroom wall too. Ah--your girl is starting to come into. her own again!

Of course, the best thing is that she's almost up to her second Covid inoculation's two week mark!

 

 

 

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Friday Report

 Oops--Fiorella almost forgot to let you know what is happening in her world, and it's good. Last evening, she was able to start a relationship with the Walgreens in Buda (Texas) and today, she learned that she's going to haul in about $200 on an investment her late husband made  several years ago. Wow!

Fio should add that while she was in Walgreens, she bought a bright blue cone for Sonia dog, who has two bloody scrapes on her forehead. (Fio suspects Son L's cats.)

Drawing to a close on retrieving the things in storage and another shipment of it will be U-hauled to Austin tomorrow. Needless to say, Fiorella hopes her personal stiff will be part of the haul, but it will be hard to tell because everything is sealed in boxes. and

Visited Daughter at her new home this evening and your, girl, who wants a Soaker Tub in her new house like the one she had in her old house,  tried out Daughter's Soaker Tub to be sure she could still get in and out of it.

 

 

 

 

 

Great Aunt Helen

 It was Great Aunt Helen's birthday and her niece, Aunt Julie, had arranged for the whole clan,  from far and near, to gather at a Pennsylvania hotel in a surprise celebration so, of course, Fiorella, who had been tracing her father's family roots, hopped a plane to Yankee Land--to show off her mink jacket, if nothing else.

The hotel was buzzing with old relationships renewed, and then came the big reveal--Helen was walked onto the stage by Aunt Julie and the room roared with applause and cheers.

But Aunt Helen was not amused. In fact, she was angry and stalked back behind the curtains.

After a few moments of silence and confusion, everyone resumed talking to each other, probably remembering that Helen had always been an odd duck--sometimes in a nice way, sometimes not. She had joined the WACs in WWII, and, when she came home, the story went around that there had been a boyfriend slain in battle, but Fio doubts it. She thinks Aunt Helen--who could be so generous that she bought a lovely set of front room furniture for Fio when she visited Texas and so vicious that she kicked one of her fifth grade students down the stairs--was her own woman.

Thus, when the time came, despite Aunt Julie's pleas, Great Aunt Helen arranged to be buried in the military cemetery rather than the family's Russian Orthodox plot.

 

 

Truth to Tell

 Fiorella is tired of spending her time watching British mysteries on television, but what else can she do? Her art and manuscripts are still in storage and she doesn't know her way around south Austin enough to drive anywhere. 

Your girl finally made contact with the local Walgreens, but the transfer of her prescriptions from Georgetown is going to be irritatingly tedious. Instead of moving the whole kit and caboodle to Austin, Walgreens requires Fio to call in each time one of her RXs runs dry. 

Q: Is Fiorella the only one who didn't receive the Decade Book she ordered from Face Book, but instead was told that she'd have to pay double because there had been some screwy mix-up on the address?

Q: Has Fio who always had her face in a book from first grade on, mentioned that she didn't not have anything to read except Face Book and the newspaper for a couple of months before the storm, and now, she doesn't even have a newspaper? Is it a wonder she's going crazy?

Q: Not only the above, but, but all her manuscripts are in storage, as are her art supplies, piano, and linguistic studies?  That she's totally high and dry? That this blog is her only outlet?

THANK YOU!

 

 

Up To Date

 Into the fray again--Fiorella has straightened everything out with her bank and her domain holders, but the FB Decade Book is still a mess. Apparently they tried to deliver it to an address composed partly of that of her former address and partly of her shelter address. Sigh....

More good news is that Fio's wonderful vet contacted her and will be shipping Doggie's food and meds to her new address. It will cost a pretty penny, but Sonia Dog is worth it. 

Still on your girl's plate are various Colorado ranchland dealings, the continuing non-delivery of the Austin newspaper, setting up appointments with local doctors, and figuring out how to get herself a Soaking Tub like the one she had in her old house. Wish her luck!

Fiorella bravely volunteered to escort her granddaughter to a birthday party two houses down, even though she could see the slip-and-slide in the hosts' front yard. B loved it, of course, but her mask got soaked, then lost, and, when Grammy decided it was time to go home, B wouldn't cooperate. Nothing else to do but contact Son and let him take over. It happens.

It will take at least a month more to get all of Fio's belongings into the new house, and then there will be sortings, placements, and donations. Your girl is both looking forward to the day and fearing it.

Planning Ahead

 Today, Fiorella hopes to introduce herself to her local Chase bank and try to get a current statement from it, pick up hamburger meat for Sonia Dog's snacks, and attempt to get in contact with her vet to find out what Doggie's preferred food should be. Meanwhile, Son L is still fighting the newspaper delivery problem and waiting for a response from Face Book about your girl's Decade Book. Wish us luck.

Hope everyone had a nice Easter. Fio ate too many sugar sweets and paid for it later in the evening, but Granddaughter gobbled her treats down with no ill effects. Ah...to be a child again!

Having grown tired of Hercule Poirot and given a thumbs-down to the new Midsomer Murders, your girl is now gobbling up the Miss Fisher Mysteries (several of which she's seen before)--but what she's really looking forward to is a channel carrying the news of the day, which Son L has promised to install today.

Fiorella doesn't know about you, but she's going crazy trying to figure out how to wear her hair. She doesn't want to cut it, but letting it hang down past her shoulders makes her look like a witch, and when she tries to put it up, stray tendrils come loose and tickle her face.

In about three weeks, Fio and family should be totally moved in--which means not only that the house will be overcrowded with several generations' worth of furniture that your girl will have a field day arranging, but also that ALL OF HER ART, WRITING, AND WHIMSY WILL BE AVAILABLE!

Confessions

Because of the pandemic and her move,  Fiorella has lost track of the holidays, but she knows today is Easter because Daughter-in-Law has made all the appropriate preparations--bunnies, baskets, and eggs💗

Son L has supplied Fio with a waste basket and has also ordered a wall calendar for her, both of which she appreciates because (1) new houses do not come equipped with the former and (2) without the latter, a newspaper, or a television adjusted to reality, she doesn't know what day it is.

O, how much your girl longs for a get-together with her lady friends, but that will have to wait until we're all vaccinated and Fiorella can again find her way around Austin--and its surrounds. Dang, why does everything have to wait!

 Fiorella also longs for the boxes and boxes of literary genius still packed away in heartless storage, but kitchen utensils, clothes, and furniture have to come first. Fio's paintings are in cold storage, but lately she's been wondering if she did the right thing by cushioning them with wadded up newspapers. Will the print smudge her masterpieces?

Fio has passed many a lonely hour watching Midsomer Murders on television so she was caught by surprise when the main character retired and a new series--with a "cousin" of the former  hero in the lead role--appeared on the movie screen that Son L had installed in her room. She was also surprised to see that the series had been updated to include a female compadre, every technological gadget in the book, and a more industrial background.

 

Down, Down, Down, Down, Down

 Fiorella is at a stand-still regarding the chest she wants to push into the narrow space between her bed and the wall. As you know, she plans to remove the woodwork, which should give her the necessary one-inch leeway, but she has yet to dig up someone who has a circular saw.

Your girl has been somewhat down lately so today, she tried out a new hairdo and some classier clothes Her shoes remained the same, though--no more heels for her.

Fio has has forgotten the brand of food the vet said that Sonia Dog should be eating, although she does remember that for treats, hamburgers--cooked--are the best choice. She also remembers that  Doggie should be taking a certain pill every day--a pill which is buried in your girl's luggage which has not yet rescued from storage. 

Nothing to do, but sit and stew 

Although, actually I lie on the bed

Cradling a pillow under my head

Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue--

And that's all I have to say

For today

What about you?

 

 

 

 

Things Are Looking Up

 Rejoice and be glad--Fio got her second shot yesterday and Son L and his wife are scheduled for today--happy days are here again! (Your girl did wake up at 4:00 in the morning with a slight headache, but that beats Covid any day of the week.)

Son L and his wife have worked their magic on Fio's television so that she now has all kinds of shows she can choose from, and right now, she's revisiting her youth by plowing through the Hercule Poirot series. But, you ask, what about Doc Martin? Well, as it turned out, Fiorella was not cut off after all--she'd just reached the end of the show so far, and there will be more episodes to come in the new season.

Wish your girl luck--she's committed herself to chiseling out a yard of baseboard so she has enough room to move the chest onto one side of her bed that matches the chest on the other side of the bed. It'll be tight, but  Fio thinks she can make it.

Son L just came in from the store with an Easter treat basket for Fiorella. Sadly, she can't share it with you--have no idea where the chocolate rabbit, Cranbury Cream eggs and Peeps went to. 😁

Fiorella can't help remembering the Easter back when the kids were still at home that a stray bunny kept showing up in shrubbery around the front of the house. 💛💛💛

 

Grouch

 Oooops....that was last year's calendar that Fiorella found. This year's calendar is still somewhere in limbo, just like Fio is. And, by the way, she's also behind on her bills because her mail from the Lost River house still hasn't arrived.

Not happy about the modern televisions from which one has to actually buy channel channels. Prefer the TVs that ran all the channels so that one could make his/her own choice and even switch back and forth. Translation: Fio was cut off of Midsomer Murders, Miss Fisher, and Doc Martin. Then the batteries ran out--what the heck?!! 

Fiorella is at a moving stand-still and it's driving her crazy. She wants to be working on her bedroom and side room, but there are still two or three more U-Haul trips  to go before that will happen.

If all those Britishers would just quit walking around in the dark, there would be fewer Midsomer Murders.

On an up-note, Fio has found her birthday book😊