Yesterday ended up well, with a phone call from the blood people assuring your girl that her platelets (or whatever) were right-on and that she was taking the correct pills at the correct times. So, with good news like that, what did Fio want to do but celebrate with a nice lunch--a sandwich from her mini-fridge--but, unfortunately, her milk bottle had leaked down on her loaf of bread and all she had left were the potato chips she'd stationed on top of the fridge. Crunch, crunch, crunch....
Hooray, hooray! Brother just called and he and Fiorella stayed on the phone for about half an hour, which was great practice for Fio since she lives in an unusually quiet house. In case you don't remember, the more people talk with your girl, the better-- it helps her get accustomed to conversational exchanges again.
Hey, hey, hey--after a really bad piano practice yesterday, Fio is happy to announce that she had a rather good one today and has moved on to Carry Me Back to Old Virginny, which is quite a challenge.
Just a note in passing: Fiorella, who is not in the least technological and is accustomed to turning all such endeavors over to a husband, moved her bedside clock up an hour this morning ALL BY HERSELF! 😁
I live 'tween anger and sorrow--
The first for today, the next for tomorrow
No more to say, no need to borrow
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