"I am a mermaid," Fiorella's granddaughter announced as she played with her collection of aquatic plastic toys, and, like a lightening streak, Fio was catapulted into the past and a little poem she wrote many years ago, even before she had children, and the remembrance made her heart race and her eyes blur with tears:
I am a mermaid, and no one knows
I hide my scales with calicos
I hide my tail in long, loose clothes
I am a mermaid, and no one know
*
Fio has lost the little pink book she keeps her friends' and relatives' birthdays in. She also lost her glasses. Coincidence? Or are the gremlins messing with her again?!
On the other hand, Fio opened up the acrylic paint set she'd bought this past week and started repairing nicks and knocks her paintings had suffered in transit, and the feeling was like ambrosia. Your girl was born to paint.
Music, art, languages, literature--they're all coming together again except for music, and this weekend, Fiorella and Son L be driving down to Pflugerville to consider another load, maybe with the piano in it💗
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