While Son L and his wife and child were off helping his mother-in-law with her yearly Christmas party yesterday, Fiorella guarded the fort at home, and not only did she fill out all her incoming bills, but spent about an hour on and off in the parlor, checking out the electric piano with one of the carols she'd composed several years ago when she was all about music. Yes, you heard Fio--she used to compose, but that was before she moved out into the boondocks and, along the way, lost her singing voice.
On a whim, Fio tried not just to play one of her songs on the piano, but also to sing along--and it sounds like her voice is coming back. Not strongly, of course, but enough to stay on pitch. Hmm...wonder if, with daily practice, she could retrain the cords in her throat. (PS: she'll have to retrain her hands for the piano too.)
It's Christmas morning, but there's not a sound in the house so your girl has been lying in bed penning poetry--cute little lines like "What can I do, what can I say?/I can't make the rhyming go away!
Suddenly, Granddaughter burst into Fio's room because her parents were still asleep, waved an unwrapped present at me, grabbed Grammy's hand, and insisted she come to the den with her to see what Santa had left, but didn't open anything until her parents awoke from their well deserved rest.
It's almost noon and Granddaughter, the star of the show, is ecstatic over all her gifts--and Fiorella is impressed by the way she joyfully picked up all the wrapping paper and stuffed it in a bag. Good home training!
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