From Neighborhood to Movies to Clothes Chest to UT, Uvalde, and the Ukraine

Six o'clock in a darkish evening, the door bell rings, and Fiorella hears the panicked voice of the next door neighbor asking after her daughter, who, it seems, forgot to tell her mother she was coming over to our house to play. All's well that ends well in this story, thank goodness.

Your girl has a hard time finding good television movies to put her asleep at night so when she does locate one, she watches that show for a couple of months until she understands its every nuance.  Doc Martin, Unfinished Sky, and Soap Dish have been her favorites, but now she's seeking a new venue, like maybe Three Men and a Baby, if it's still available. As she remembers from years ago, it was hilarious.

Did Fio tell you that she discovered a cache of old jewelry far back in the clothes chest in her bedroom? Mostly dog pins and little silver necklaces like we all wore when we went to church on Sunday back in the day, but who knows what Fiorella will find next? Sonia Dog's collar? Her own teething ring?

To help Fiorella deal with Uvalde and her reawakened memories of the UT shooting of her nephew so many years ago, Son L has arranged for your girl to have weekly counseling, which she appreciates. It's hard to talk about things like this... and hard not to.

Fio is thinking about taking down the yellow paper sunflowers that she cut out and scotch-taped to her front window when Russia first invaded Ukraine. The flowers are looking a little ragged, and it looks like our side has won anyway.

 

Purgatory

 Confession: your Fiorella does not like being alone in the dark. In fact, it frightens her so much that she screams, beats on walls, and cries for help. She's been this way as long as she can remember...maybe because she was a WWII child, when all the bombs were real.

Further confession: Fio's got a real mess on the other side of her bed right now--pens, tablets, wads of Kleenexes, a much-written upon calendar, and a plastic box full of pills. Well, what about the other side of the bed, you ask? That's where Sonia Dog's spirit sleeps, Fiorella answers, although sometimes the resident Persian--who's a dog at heart--makes a nest there and tries to comforts her.

As you can tell, your girl is melancholy tonight. Past times are winding themselves around her, reminding her of when she was a child, a schoolgirl, a wife, a mother, and now....a widow alone. 

Fiorella tries to keep up with what's going on around her, and she's thankful that most of her family tries to fit her into the their lives--but what about her own projects, desires, and dreams--the ones no on  else knows about? Will they always float just beyond her reach?

 How can Fio climb to the sky when there is no ladder?

 

Tweedle Dee, Not Much to Say

 Fio's world is looking a little brighter today. Son L picked up some of her favorite nourishments on his way home, and she's finally heard from the transportation people. Food and wheels--what can be better? Now to get that check deposited....

But, there is something else your girl wants, as you may remember: a bathroom soaker tub like she had in her former home. It's not only warm and cozy, but, at this point, symbolic.

Ah, the things Fiorella will be able to do with personal transportation--like pick up her own meds, continue PT on her bum leg, look at clothes and shoes, get her hair done, and and give Son L relief from driving her all over the place when he's already overloaded with responsibilities.

Hey, maybe your girl could even get in touch with old friends and even make knew ones! 

Ah, the possibilities, if all this pans out.... but in the meantime (does Fio use that word too much?) she'll continue to shuffle along to Buffalo on her own two feet with a telephone, a prayer, and a whimper or two.

 

Fiorella's Life Crumble's in Front of Her

 Daughter-in-law repaired my computer--or at least the Face Book part of it that had Fio totally bewildered because it had been showing nothing but cutesy animals for the last couple of months. Now, your girl likes animal pictures as much as everyone else, but there is a limit!

Fiorella is having a hard time--it's transportation again. Damn-- why wasn't your girl born with skates on her feet? Then, she'd be able to go scooting in and out of traffic as she picked up her groceries, claimed her meds, and deposited her check. As it was, H-E-B was closing when her transporter got on scene, which meant it was too late for the drugstore, and that the check is still in Fio's purse.

Actually, your girl had an idea for combining the three, but it depended on someone picking Fio up from the house at early afternoon--which didn't happen.

Sigh...now to plan for tomorrow. Getting the pills are the most important thing--but Fio hopes she will also be able to pick up some extra groceries that she needs while she's just around the corner. 

The check should be a simple drive-through, BUT WHAT'S "SIMPLE" for Fiorella anymore? 

 

 

Expensive Junk down the Drain?

 Fiorella has been going through her old jewelry this afternoon, and there's tons of it from her childhood on. Whoever dreamed she'd end up with a collections of so many gold necklaces, all of them still sparkling and begging to be worn? Fio does her best to oblige them, of course, but then the silver necklaces get into the fray and she's...uh...weighed down.

Does Fiorella like jewelry, you ask? OF COURSE, SHE DOES--even though storage and display is a problem. What is an even more of a problem, though, is figuring out what to do with the non-metal awards from kindergarten up to Phi Beta Kappa, all of which your girl treasure. 

Then there are then the booties that Mother crocheted whenever a friend of hers had a baby, and Dad's golf clubs, and the piles of photos of Fiorella's childhood homes, then of her own homes and children. And, of course, there's that whole front room of her current home that she's loaded with her art, writing, and foreign languages which--for shame--she hasn't kept up with.

NOTICE--This has not been the best day for her girl so she's closing the barn door early today. 

As always, please pray for her.

Santa Claus Is Geering Up His Sleigh!

 Well, it looks like that terrible head cold that Fiorella has been fighting is abating at last, but it's too late for her to rejoin the Methodist choir for Christmas, and who knows--your girl just might find a nice Lutheran choir in the backwoods somewhere that needs a nice soprano. Of course, as usual, wherever she goes, Fio will still have a problem with transportation. Right now, she's trying to get in touch with the city people who provide what amounts to low-cost-taxi service for (ahem) people her age, but so far. no luck.

In the meantime, your girl has been cleaning up her bedroom, which is no easy task because Fio saves EVERYTHING. After all, you never know when your discards might be turned into something useful.

If you're having a hard time finding just the right Christmas present for a friend or relative whose house runneth over, consider checking with him to see how he would feel about you sending a nice check to his favorite charity. 

Quick change of subject: Fiorella is considering giving herself some a personal present or two after the New Year, so don't be surprised if she shows up with minor face-lift. She's done it before and is thinking of a repeat. (She'd love to have a nice big dog too, but that ainta-gonna happen, sigh.)

Skipping ahead to the New Year, your girl would like to get out more and meet up with old friends, and, at the same time, make new friends. Wish her well!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

 The weather is wet and dreary as Fiorella prepares to spend the rest of the day with a boatload of people--her daughter-in-law's relatives--who all know each other but don't know her.  It's scary....

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX WHAT HAPPENED! THE REST OF FIO'S COMPLAINT  HAS BEEN WIPED CLEAN!

But, as long as she's there, she'll amend herself and say that a fair number of people at the have actually made acquaintance with her this time around. Hoping our next encounter will be even better.

In the meantime, your girl is working on her cork boards, trying to get rid of old papers, birthday cards, and messages, some of which, she'll admit, date back to the Dark Ages. 

Hmm...With Thanksgiving being over, Fio has no excuse for delay on her special Christmas card--the  one your girl's going to make from one of her long-ago cards--except that she doesn't have the address of very many friend's anymore. But maybe she can throw the card up on FaceBook--except that, suddenly, her FB doesn't seem to be accepting anything excrpt pictures of puppies and kittens....

Nevertheless, your girl will keep plowing ahead in her own strange way.

 

 

 

 

 

Swetting It Out Til Tomorrow

 Fiorella will be attending a Thanksgiving celebration tomorrow and has no idea how it will work out since almost everyone there will be younger than she is. Nevertheless, she's taking her computer along with her and will catch you up on anything interesting.

Just thinking...all of Fio's students were younger than she was, so maybe she can make it, even without chalk, black board, and an attendance sheet in her hand.

Actually, though, your girl thinks everybody at the gathering will ignore her, which has happened before, so maybe she should just take something to read....or a drawing pad. DAMN--WHY HADN'T SHE LEARNED HOW TO KNIT?

Hmm....what would she wear? Let's face it--your girl has been cloistered for so long that her entire wardrobe is jeans, tops, and shirts. Yep, dowdiness is what happens when lack of transportation strikes. (And her hair needs attention too--professional attention.)

She also needs someone to search under her bed for her good glasses, the blocks that are shaped to her feet, and her mother's silver. The latter, she threw under the bed because she didn't know what else to do with it when she first moved in.

 

 

 

 

Putting It All Together

 

 "Alone by the telephone," as the song goes--but only till nighttime, when her family--or at least Son L--will return home so Fiorella won't be at alone. Yes, your girl is a scaredy cat, born and bred. She'll never forget the light-weight curtains of her bedroom windows whooshing up and down against the non-air-conditioned Texas windows at night when she was a seven-year-old in a new home. 

So, what will Fio do? How about her laundry? With son and wife gone, she will be able to wash her clothes without waiting in line-- and just maybe, just maybe, she can slice off a few more hunks of that pre-cooked turkey breast that she bought the other day. (YUM!)

And she can always practice on the piano or start working on a certain painting she's got in mind.

She might also try some singing now that no one else is in the house but the cats. After all, her voice seems to be coming back enough that she can pretty much reach the soprano high notes again.

Whatever, at least it doesn't involve scary curtains again!

 

 

 

All About Fiorella...

Has your girl ever told you that she and her family inherited a ranch in Colorado that no one in the current family has ever seen, but that Fio has become friends-by-phone with the long-time renter who is, interestingly enough, also a woman?

Did you know that Fiorella's favorite movie  is Soap Dish and that she watches it two or three times every night to put herself to sleep?

Has Fio ever mentioned that she's written two romances which were published by a top-notch house?

Did you know that your girl, who's lived most of her life in Texas, was so bad in a horsemanship class that when her horse reached down for some grass, she slid over its neck onto the ground?

Do you remember that "Fiorella" told you she had snatched her name from a famous New York politician because she admired him.... and thought his name was funny?

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, Your Girl Lives on PILLS!

 Again, Fiorella is writing toward the end of the day, a sure guarantee that her day has been a mess. Friend Raquel showed up right on time to drive your girl to H-E-B and buy her groceries, but the weather was downright dismal--sluggish rainy all day. Nonetheless, Fio had a nice visit with Raquel and did a fairly good job of shopping, although she wasn't able to snag another pre-baked half quarter turkey.

Unfortunately, your girl is still nervous about her pill set-up, mostly because of that angry nurse who insisted that Fio should be taking a pill that Fio's heart doctor had nixed. To add to it, a lower-rank doctor hasn't renewed your girl for another one of her necessary pills, but having run into this kind of situation before, Fiorella thinks it's an honest mistake. Non-the-less, yours truly won't be able to get to the hospital until Monday--maybe Tuesday--to work everything out,  depending on when she can get a ride.

In the meantime, she is planning on having a nice visit with her brother and his wife tomorrow. Fio thinks it's to honor his birthday,  but she's not, sure. Never the less, we'll all have a great time. Your girl's family is like that.

And Fio hopes your family is too. 💗

 

 

 

 

From Revelations to Yawn....

 Your girl is thinking about her father's heritage again--she rather enjoys being half Carpatho-russyn. Besides, the Carpatho-russyns seem to be related to the Ukrainians, and she'd already  spattered her front window with yellow sunflowers.

The computer just surprised Fiorella by wiping her slate dry when she was trying to tell you that the big white cat that likes your girl is not a persian, but a Persian.

Fio is going through all the notes she has taped to her inside bedroom wall and getting rid of what she doesn't need anymore, which isn't as many as she thought it would. Any volunteers to help?

What will your girl be doing tomorrow? How about going out to pick up her weekly groceries, then persuading her driver to drip by somewhere she can get her hair done? Hmmmmm......

Fio is running late tonight so she'll say good night and sleep well.💗

Personal

 What the heck is going on here! Fiorella's beginning to think that her computer entries are being sabotaged....or maybe it's just the rough water she's been treading around in. Memories are not always the best thing to poke around in.

Like those of her first pregnancy, which was such a joy--but didn't take. The darkness, the doctor who said he'd be at the hospital door but wasn't, her having to climb three rusty floors with blood dripping down her legs. Being assigned to a dimly-lit room off to the side because someone more important than she was giving birth.....then being told her baby couldn't be saved.

Would it have been a girl or a boy? Husband and Fio were both bright so maybe she/he would have done or invented something that saved the world--or at least entertained it. Whatever, her baby's small beginnings went out with the trash, and Fiorella was desolate.

Later, we adopted a beautiful baby boy and loved him with all our hearts. Then, as a surprise, a few years later, Fio gave birth to a baby boy,  and a few years more, a baby girl. More than that, Fiorella will not tell you because the rest is the the children's story.

Except for your girl's part of it, which is that she loves all her children and weeps when she is away from them. 

You're Not Goiing to Believe This!

Oops, please forgive her--Fio almost missed a day😀

Today was (uh) interesting--or maybe more like unbelievable....  Your girl got in a fight with a nurse. Not in a hospital, thank goodness, but over the phone, and Fiorella still doesn't know what to make of it, or if she'll ever feel safe entering that woman's territory again. 

The whole thing started when Fio had heart surgery about a year back. Some very nice nurses took care of her, and they they also taught her all about the various pills necessary to her health, and your girl has never had a pill problem till today.

And, of all people, it was from a nurse....

Fio had gone through the latest print-outs of her permitted pills and noted that one of them that was still on her list that had been removed earlier by the doctor who had done her heart surgery about a year ago. Not knowing what to do about the situation, she called his office and the surgeon's assistant kindly explained that the surgeon had good reason to remove that pill from my list, and that if the people at the other hospital would call her, and she'd explain it all. 

Sighing in relief, Fiorella, who'd spent a l-o-o-o-o-n-g time on hold all afternoon, finally got through to the first hospital again and reported her findings, but the female nurse who answered on the hospital line told Fio off. Apparently, she thought your girl, who knows nothing about the world of medicine, should have talked to the surgeon rather than his assistant.   

Not Fiorella's best day......          

 

 

 shouldn't be

Pulling Everything Together--

 It's gotten cold and Fio has used half of her weekly chocolate cache on whipping up a cup of hot chocolate today, which means she'd better add Hershey's brand to her weekly food list. Ever since childhood, it's been her favorite winter wake-up  treat.

Daughter-in-law kindly supplied Fiorella with an electrified blanket when she complained about the cold weather, and, of course, the second that your girl left the room to tend to her homemade chocolate,  the cat took over the blanket.

Fiorella is having to miss choir because of her bad throat, but it's made her more industrious in regard to her studio. Yep, she's making plans not only about this year' Christmas card, but her own future.

Your girl has three big boards on the wall beside her bed, and they're spattered with things she wants to do or remember, things like a picture of her last dog, family obligations, and current assignments.

Fio's also started thinking about yesteryear (as they say), and family problems of the past, when she and Husband acted as parents to their kinsman who had no such any more....and afterwards, she wept for them and for herself.

So Tired That I Can't Think of a Title......

 Your girl is having a busy day. She's rearranging her mini-fridge and starting on the rest of the studio/ study/salon too. Unfortunately, her TV remains the same, even running the same shows she remembers from way back when....except for the Ukraine situation, of course, which seems to be (hooray!) getting more upbeat by the day. 

Fiorella skipped church/choir today--she's still hoarse and it's driving her crazy. One of her doctors suggested a pill she could get from our local pharmacy, but Son L already has his hands full so your girl will have to wait her turn. (Has Fio mentioned this before?)

The weather was cold this morning when your girl went out for a walk so she put on the dreamy mink jacket that she had given her mother for Christmas many years ago and imagined herself as the queen of the block--until a young woman who wearing a light-weight jersey outfit blasted by.

Fio is writing at the end of the day now, after a nap that made her even more languid. She's moved a couple of the weightier framed family portraits around now and is making plans for one--maybe two-- more to find new homes WITHIN HER OWN COLLECTION. (Gone are the days when she handed her art out willy-nilly.)

The major task tomorrow,  will try be trying to lasso someone to hang up a painting of her late husband's grandmother (great grandmother?) A while back, Fio nearly knocked herself out trying to get this lady unhooked from her current position, but she figures that since both Son L and his wife are taller and stronger than she is, tomorrow will be THE DAY.

 

 

 

From Newspapers to the UT Massacre (Again)

 Today is Saturday, and can you guess how Fiorella knows? It's because the newspaper doesn't deliver on this day, which your girl suspects is a way of preparing her and any other old-fashioned newspaper readers for when the news will come out only by computer. SHAME!

By the way, Fio has a cute--and meaningful--outfit on today: jeans with a matching jacket over a years-old T-shirt from her Dad's last reunion with his Osceola, Pennsylvania, high school pals. Fio wears the shirt proudly, of course, but tears up when she thinks of her father, the best father in the whole wide world.💗

Son L and family are out right now, which means Fiorella is alone in the house, which makes her a little nervous, even though she lives in a nice neighborhood and all doors are locked. A neighbor down the way had said she'd come up and visit with our your girl, but it doesn't look like she's going to show. 

Oh well, Son's family should be back home by nightfall, and tomorrow, Fio will trot off to evening choir practice--if Son will transport her and the Methodists will still let her in....

 Fiorella is in sorrow that so many Texas voted for the current governor, who's an out-and-out Trump adherent. This is the same man who nearly killed Fio during the horrible storm a couple of years ago, the same man who was on his way to a gun convention when the Uvalde massacre occurred.

Speaking of massacres, Fiorella is considering painting a picture of the gathering of the adult members of the family she married into before the UT massacre struck. It's gnawing at her.

 

 

FIORELLA UP TO DATE WITH HERSELF

 Please forgive Fiorella for being late again. She had a rough day--not only did she get called in by the medical powers-that-be to get her blood tested, but it was also the day she did her own grocery shopping since she moved in, the day she tested her plan of engaging her former maid as her chauffeur to drive her wherever she need to go, and the day that was the nastiest weather she has seen this year. In fact it was so bad that when Fio finally arrived at her doctor's abode ONE HOUR LATE, she was the only patient in the office, and the (short) staff welcomed her with open arms. .

 Your girl should also add that, sadly, her blood was NOT in good shape and so, when she got home, as instructed, she augmented her single little pink pill with another half pink pill. (If longevity depends on pills, Fiorella will live forever.)

In the meantime, Fio has to re-find her soprano voice up to F on the piano. Let's just hope the pills that your girl's neurologist told her had cured his own throat will cure hers. Cough, cough, snort....

 What next? Well, Fiorella will continue to sing along with the Methodist choir as long as she can, of course, and beside using her musical talent, there's a chance she will be able to demonstrate her painting skill with the church's arts and crafts program. If so, that would leave only her last two God-given gifts to make use of--languages/linguistics--which has lain dormant for so long that it may be gone forever, and her writing, which you're getting a taste of right now. (She's also has a couple of romances published, but there are more swirling around in her sordid brain.)

Meanwhile, love each other, and be happy💗💗💗

 

 

 

 

 

MOVIN' ON TO CHRISTMAS--Make your own cards!

 The day is muggy and Fiorella (who's always a month ahead) couldn't even put together a design for her Christmas card, even after she'd shuffled through all her past ones for inspiration. To explain, your girl has always been a master Christmas card maker, but she sort of lost her touch after her husband died. So now, five years later, she wants to start it up again.

The first thing, of course, is to figure out your theme--what you want to say--and then you buy envelopes that will fit. Fio wouldn't recommend making your own envelopes because it's tedious work and you want to save yourself for the hard labor--designing, correcting, and writing your own individual message to each person to whom you are sending a card.

The major colors you will use are obvious. 

And what is Fiorella's theme going to be this year? Probably a take-off on a card she made several years ago, when she was living in the middle of music and motherhood. It's a sweet little song spread over four four-inch pages and illustrated by sketches of holly in the corners of the "cover." Yep, you can do all sorts of things with Christmas cards. Tally ho!

But Fio, you ask, "Christmas is still a while away. What are you doing now?" 

"Preparing for Christmas," I explain. "My church choir is putting together a great repertoire and I'm a soprano." 

😄

 

 Too much going on. Fiorella will fill you in tomorrow.

From Cat to Religion to Ice Cream to Medic to Election

 Fiorella is apparently behind in reporting to you, which she doesn't understand. Could she have forgotten to push the PUBLISH sticker on her work yesterday....or did the great white Persian cat take over while your girl was outside somewhere? Whatever, now you know for sure that Fio is for real--no syndication involved.

Actually, Fiorella was inside most of the day, shoveling through mini-piles of things like writing and rewriting her latest little poem, fighting with the local hospital over the telephone about when her weekly blood draw should be, and pondering what to call herself now that your little Lutheran girl has tasted Methodist communion. (It was very nice and the choir was FANTASTIC!)

Granddaughter convinced her father, Son L, that it was a great evening for ice cream and invited Fio along to boot. It was a lovely evening, soft, almost hazy, and Fiorella couldn't help but think of the many trips to the ice cream shop that her father had taken the family on when she was a child in Ohio....and she also wondered if he was watching them on high as they enjoyed their treats.

Tomorrow, your girl will be visiting her favorite doctor--she even gave him a couple of her novels a couple of years ago. After all, he'd told her about about a motorcycle excursion when he and several other local doctors went a while back. (It's fun to have a sawbones who isn't afraid of being a friend.)

Fio is still waiting on pins and needles for the results of our local polls, but she is hoping, hoping, hoping the good guys will win. REMEMBER GEORGIA!

WWWWWHAT A DAY!

 What a day! In the morning, Son L dropped Fiorella off at the church that (1) she's been attending during practices to warm up her vocal cords and see if she could still sing, and (2) it was also the first time she'd been inside the church proper.  The rest of the choir--the ones your girl  had become somewhat accustomed to, at least--were up in the rafters behind the pastor, singing songs that Fio had practiced with them. The Kyire was especially moving, and Fiorella, of course, wept like a baby--not only because of the beauty of the music, but also she herself had practiced it.

Then came the communion, which the choir took down the rows of the pews. Fiorella was nervous at first and refused when a male choir member whom she didn't recognize approached her, but when one of the female choir members smiled and called her by name, Fio did take part, crying the whole time. Where does your girl get all that water from? 

Whatever, Fiorella floated out of the church and all was well, even though she hadn't learned a thing about the upcoming arts&crafts show planned for next week, which means she doesn't know how to prepare for it. Years ago, your girl used to appear in a lot of shows like this, but she doesn't know what kind of paintings people are looking for now--and how much they'll pay. 

After Son L and Fio got back to the house, their "real" pastor (= Lutheran) knocked on our door in the afternoon as he does every month or so, and your girl had a quiver of guilt for attending a Methodist church and taking its communion, although her traveling pastor, she knows, would understand.

The rest of the story isn't as great--your girl has lost the Methodist choir book assigned to her. Pray for her.

 

NERVOUS TO THE BONE!

 Fiorella is somewhat upset because she still can't find that framed family picture from about forty years ago that she wants to turn into a painting. She remembers it as sitting on her bureau the night before, but when she woke up in the morning, it was gone. Elves?

Your girl finally got the proceeds from the family ranch handed out to the remaining generation. Don't get too excited--Fio and her late husband never saw the place, and the previous generation probably didn't either. Their great-grandfather (an Oklahoma storekeeper) was the one who bought up land whenever he could.

Whoa! Fiorella didn't know there was a Facebook inside of Facebook! That must have happened when she was in the hospital for one reason or another, or maybe when she was totally out of touch during the snow storm and its aftermath.....or maybe while she was moving. But one thing Fio can tell you is that she was completely ignorant of the new situation. Anyone willing to educate her?!!

For a quick change of topic, your girl will admit that she's very nervous about putting foot inside her "new" church tomorrow morning. It's not Lutheran, and she won't know about anyone there or the way they worship. Sure, most of the choir members will probably be present, but Fio hasn't been around long enough for them to recognize her learn her name..

DANG! All in all, Fiorella's plan to take care of more of her needs by herself so Son L will have more time with his wife and child hasn't worked, but she still has a couple more ideas up her sleeve. Wish her well.

 

 

 

 

 

LATE NIGHT CONTEMPLATIONS

 It's sort of dark looking outside, but that's November for you. Meanwhile, Fiorella is waiting with baited breath for the results of yesterday's voting. Please, God. please let O'Rourke win! (Yes, your girl has just revealed her political standing, but remember, her family has had to deal with mass murder first hand.)

While waiting for her driver to take her to the doctor's office and the bank, your  girl was playing around on the piano. What a blessing it is, though Fiorella knows every time she touches the keys, they might, like her, go down for the count. (Fio should add that she has an electronic piano from about forty years ago that is in its dying days,)

Hmm.... A couple of months ago, when Fiorella and her son had a confrontation with that eyes-nose-ears and-throat doctors, the female member of the team noted that Fio's uvula was too thin and needed to be operated on. Your girl vehemently rejected the idea because she already had a knee that had worked better BEFORE than before it was supposedly improved. And--get this: your girl looked up "uvula" in the encyclopedia just in case she was over reacting, and she couldn't find a single word that made her nervous about her own uvula....although, because she's the nervous type, she'll check things out with a neurologist friend that she trusts the next time she sees him.

What now for Fiorella's attempted entry onto the local church music scene? Well, everyone is nice but her throat is still quite scratchy and she's having a problem reaching some of the high notes. Maybe it would help if she could locate not only a good throat doctor, but someone who would keep reminding her to keep talking in her upper register.

Has Fio been repeating herself? Has she been whining about the same things as she did yesterday and last week and the whole time you've been reading her blog? Sorry--her only excuse is that she doesn't know anything else to talk about except what she sees, hears, feels, and thinks. What about you?

 

Difficult Times

 Fiorella had a wonderful time at choir practice yesterday evening, and part of her joy was because she actually got a ride to the church! Son L had other things going on so your girl called the church, explained the situation, and a very nice couple, both of whom were in the choir, picked her up. Everyone in the choir made her feel welcome, and Fio did her best to be worthy of their kindness. Your girl will try to get a ride to church this Sunday to see what the whole picture is like. Wish her well.

Meanwhile, Fio is going to be voting as soon as Son L has the time to drive to the polls. (And again, your girl grumps about our society being based on travel and the fact that she can no longer drive.)

Changing the subject, Fiorella has decided to move forward on a major painting, but now she can't find the model, a photo of her husband's family from when your girl joined them. GRRRRR.....

Back to the church choir, Fio wonders if the director would like to use a couple of Christmas songs Fio wrote a while back, but she isn't going to approach him until he knows her better.😁

Whoopee! In just an hour, your girl has voted, picked up her meds and replenished her cache of chocolate--the first act was accomplished in an empty storefront and the last two was a pick-up at Walgreens, which will never be empty.

Now the political nail-biting begins......

 

 

OOPS, FORGOT!

 Sorry--nothing to say this evening, but lots to say tomorrow,

From Halloween to Choir Practice to Botox

 It's a new day, but Fiorella is still breathing deep from yesterday. Let's face it--she s not built for a two-hour walk around a neighborhood blazing with unearthly creatures and boom boxes, so maybe this wasn't the best way to get to know anyone.

Halloween used to be for children--no adults involved except to hand over the sweets. We worked in packs, as Fio remembers, and had a great time of it. There were very few "tricks"involved because according to code, the only houses we went to were the ones with their indicative front door lights on. But now, from what your girl has seen, Halloween has been kidnapped by semi-adults who once a year gather up everything they can find that looks ghoulish and makes horrendous noises and plant it on their front yards. Fiorella is not amused.

On the other hand, your girl is quite pleased with the little HALL-O-WEEN  greeting she pulled together to welcome anyone who came to the front door. She's wrapped it up now, but is already planning how to improve on it next year.

Guess what! Fio might have scored a hit regarding her attendance at the outdoor choir practice because when she called the church and explained her situation, the secretary (?) said she could probably find someone who would help your girl. In the meantime, get out your ear plugs because Fiorella has been practicing her high E. 

Apparently my neurologist is now qualified (or whatever) to administer Botox, and you can bet your girl will be first in line. Her forehead looks like a rain drain.