Busy Buzzy Bee

Fiorella es fabulosa! Yesterday she picked up bread at the Panera drive-thru and ordered more for the next day, bought a ledger at Office Depot for herself and adhesive patches at Hobby Lobby for Husband's leathert recliner, stopped by the vacuum cleaner place for more bags and filters, grabbed a potted flower at H-E-B to present to her favorite Mazda guy when she asked him to let her retrieve her car before it was healed because Husband needed the Mercedes (hereafter referred to as The Blimp or The Queen Mary) for his multiple medical appointments this week, drove over to Mazda with said flower pot in hand and learned the car was ready but needed washing,  went back to H-E-B to fill the grocery list, headed home to put up the groceries and recruit Husband to take her back to Mazda to pick up her car, stopped at Walgreens on the way to pick up a prescription, then stopped in the driveway at home to pick up the mail and move the empty trash can back into the woods.

After a brief recovery period, Husband drove Fio back to Mazda and she was thrilled to have her baby car back bright and shiny. But when she got home, she had to call her Mazda guy back and leave a message--the key was still stuck in the ignition. Yes, Fiorella fabulosa, the nutcracker doll is still broken.

Industrious

Fiorella has often told you how important activity is to her--talking with friends, decorating, landscaping, artwork, playing the piano, harvesting rocks, learning languages, and writing, writing, writing. But none of her friends or relatives share this same drive. What they all seem to want to do is look at things, often traveling halfway around the globe to do so. Fio doesn't fault them, but she doesn't understand them either. What's the use of going to a foreign country unless you at least make an effort to learn the language? Why go into an art museum here or abroad unless you are studying technique for your own paintings? Why accumulate of bucket list of places you have visited unless you write travelogues?  Why watch TV or go to movies when you could be doing something more pro-active? Life is short, and Fio wants to make every moment count.

Easy to Spot

Who is this Fiorella Plum, you ask? She's the one who smiles and nods at everyone she sees. Who does physical therapy exercises while waiting at a red light or in the post office line. Who sits in her car in the parking lot and jots down notes for a novel on the back of her supermarket register slips. Who pulls wagons of rocks up from the creek to line the driveway. Who always has a project in the works. WHO CANNOT KEEP STILL AND NEVER WILL

And that's her New Year's resolution.

Post-Ash Wednesday Contemplation

If Jesus visited Fiorella's house today, she'd probably be in the kitchen helping Martha prepare the meal.  Fio understands that the parable is about priorities, but she's a doer, and there's no way she'd let someone else get stuck with all the work.

More Than You Want to Know About Fio

Fiorella was quite physically active as a child, but not athletic.  She rode her bicycle a lot, notably four miles down the street to catechism classes for two years, and she swam a lot, though it took her two years to learn how to float. True, she played tennis, but while she had a great serve, she couldn't hit a ball back across the net to save her life. Same with volley ball. Her elementary school would send kids out to the playground with a ball and a bat for one week per month, but Fio didn't learn to hit or catch until high school.  Archery was a total loss--Fio kept releasing the arrow before she released the string.

On the other hand, she's really good at walking the dog around the driveway.

Self-realization

As if a ton of rocks were dumped on her head,  Fiorella has again been reminded of how different she is.  How--well--weird.  If you've been reading Fio's blog for any length of time, you've probably come to the same conclusion.

Basically, the problem is, as Fio's mother once told her, "You think too much."  Yes, Fio's mind munches on everything in the meadow.  She theorizes about past times, even prehistoric times, and she wonders about the future.  She is not content just to live her life, but also wants to understand it.  In fact, she wants to understand everything.

And she wants to do everything too.  She wants to paint and draw and to sing and compose music and to write poetry and short stories and novels.  She wants to design and sew and crochet and embroider.  She wants her house and yard to look spectacular.  And, although it's way too late, she'd like to become proficient in some of the languages she's dabbled in through the years: Russian, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Telugu, Hindi, and Mandarin (Latin and Sanskrit being optional).

Yes, Fiorella is certifiable.

Overload

Why is Fiorella always so busy, with a continuing list of commitments and responsibilities?  Why aren't other people trapped in this web of constant activity?  What is their secret--elves, fairies, magic wands?  Where are Fiorella's little helpers?

Well, so much for the gritching.  Got to get back to work, which means finishing my laundry and sending out a chapter of one of my unsold masterpieces for critiquing.  But maybe those two are one and the same.

Act Now!

When she goes to an opera or a musical, Fiorella wants to sing along.  She'd rather write books than read them.  And her favorite part of the trip the family took to England years ago was walking through Harrod's, turning her ankle at Castle Urquhart, eating fish and chips in the rain at Greenwich and again at Bath, and encountering a group of exuberant school children yelling for echo effect as they ran through the tunnel under the Thames.

For all her artistic eye, Fiorella is a doer rather than an observer.

Mea Culpa

Fio never intends to upset anyone, even those who have upset her, but she's had complaints from three different people lately about things she's said or written so maybe she'd  better police herself more closely. Whatever, as usual, she apologizes to whomever she has offended and will strive to do better in the future.

To be frank, she finds it hard to handle situations like these.  They hurt, but she certainly doesn't want to boomerang that hurt back on someone she's already offended so she tries to keep her mouth shut, then throws herself into physical labor--the yard, the house, or, in this case, the Christmas decorating.

So, for now, Fio's off to hang another swag of greenery.