Snatches

Straightening up her office would be a lot easier if, ever since she was in grade school, Fiorella hadn't garabbed a pen and started writing every chance she got.
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Fio celebrated Daughter's birthday by hauling a couple of big limbs and some nice kindling up from the dry creek today. And believe me, in this weather, that creek is definitely dry.
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Doggie has been whining around for her Daddy, who is still in the hospital. Fio misses him too.
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Minnesota Son is looking around for a newish cell phone for Fiorella. Her old one has problems taking photos and moving them onto FaceBook.
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Did Fio tell you she's currently revisiting the joy that is Linda Howard?

What's on Your Mind, Fiorella?

Fiorella has been on a de-clutter binge for the last couple of years, sort of like when Monica scream-sings "Throw away, throw away!" in "The Medium." Right now, she's going through old, moldering pages from years ago--poems, drawings, short stories, newspaper clips, partially-written novels and theses, copies of tests she gave her students, and more. Any takers?
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Sheldon and Amy's wedding was the highlight of Fio's television week. It was not only cute, sweet, and funny, but it took took her mind off Trump for a thirty whole minutes.
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Fio is convinced that if you know how to say "hello" and "thank you" in ten different languages, the world is your oyster.
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Sonia Dog's main goal in life is to love and be loved, which is one of the reasons that Fio loves her so much.
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Mother would not approve of anything this outrageous, but Fiorella has moved the furniture around in the den so that it's all at a slant to the walls of the room. The rearrangement was necessitated by Husband's recliner being the only thing at a slant and driving Fiorella nuts.

Notes in Parentheses

Fio was awakened once in the middle of the night by Sonia so her majesty could go outside and squat (note to self: make sure doggie does duty before bedtime from now on), then, a couple of hours later, by a GERD attack (note to self: steer clear of  the Hershey brand of hot chocolate and chocolate cake from now on), then, sometime after dawn, by Sonia insisting on going out again, but this time to bark back and forth to the neighbor dogs.

Why? Foggy-brained Fiorella looked outside and didn't see any deer invasions, but did hear a familiar grinding sound. THE TRASH PICK UP! Fio and Husband had filled the trunk of his car with trash bags last night, and she had volunteered to get up early and get it all to the curb before the disposal service arrived.

Suddenly wide awake, Fiorella tightened the tie of her heavy, floor-length red winter robe, shoved her feet into the nearest shoes available, grabbed the car keys, drove up to the road, hurled the bags of trash into the can, and wheeled it into place for the pick up. She probably missed the pick up, but at least the trash is out of the trunk of the car (note to self: better late than never, but try to be more attentive from now on).

Three Rescues

Facebook never lets Fio down. She's bringing an old manuscript (not the one you saw yesterday) up to date  and needs a replacement for a youthful Michael McConnoughey-type character so she asked her "friends" to bombard her with names of blondish male movie stars. And they did. Checking out pics on Google, she's narrowed her list down to three. Will let you know when she decides on the winner.
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Some other good news, if you're following Fio's telenovela. Gabriel put on a big perfomance and asked Daniela to be his novia (fiancee), and she now has a ring on her finger. This will be happy news for the Corseca family, which, with Tulio threatening them financially and both Abuela and Papa hopitalized for health problems, is in a jam right now.
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Husband let Sonia Dog out into the front yard while Fio was piling rocks into her little red wagon and, at the same time, trashing several loads of chainsawed cedar branches. Doggie trailed around after her for a while, then retired the porch to supervise. But when Fio, dripping with sweat, took off her heavy overshirt, Sonia sprang into action, trotted out into the yard, and whined at Fio to go back inside. OMG, since when did Fiorella's dog become her mother? 

Personal Stuff

Fiorella is the filet mignon of the mosquito world, which means that when she sprays her arms and legs, they go after her less protected flesh, and since Fio sleeps with covers drawn up to her chin to defend herself while she's asleep, they feast on her face, which is now decorated with five new bites. Fio is not happy
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It turns out that Fio has been usimg the wrong term for her driveway guardians. Instead of rocas, they are piedras. Rocas are more boulder size, and Fio can't lift over thirty-five pounds. Mea cultpa.
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Fiorella doesn't see much future for Young Sheldon. It was cute idea with a cute cast of kids, but what is ithe show's targeted audience?  The main character is a kid, but children aren't going to warm to a weird, totally non-empathetic know-it-all. And if Sheldon develops empathy every week as quickly as he responded to his father in the pilot, he's going to be as considerate as Leonard when he reaches his twenties. Also, Fio doesn't think a precocious child can carry the show as the main character. It would have been better if Sheldon's mother had been the main character, like Leonard is in BBT. An outrageous character like Sheldon isn't interesting unless he plays off of a more stable character.
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The vet prescribed the same ointment for Sonia Dog's pussy eyes that Fio's ophthamalagist told her to put on her healing eyelids. Wonder which prescription costs less?
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The young actress who plays Linda, the sister who teases her sister and is mean to her brother's wife on Mi Marido Tiene Familia, is destined for a great career as a telenovela villainess, if she'd just enlarge that mole to the left side of her lip. A prominent facial mole is a sure mark of female villainy in Spanish-language soap operas.

Fivesome Update

Sonia perra tripped nimbly down la escalera at 4:15 a.m.and gave mamacita a sharp bark of demand. Porque ella es una mamacita buena, ella struggled awake and turned off the alarm system, then opened the back puerta so Sonia could usar el sevicio. Si, la perrita es la reina de casa.
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The whirlwind is spinning faster and faster. Trump is going down. Doesn't he see the signs? They're the same as when his multiple businesses went down.
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Fiorella posted one of her paintings on FB and got a really nice response, which made her hungry to start painting again, something she hasn't done in years, but she needs to invest her time in her family and projects that have the possibility of paying off big, like the writing. The almighty dollar wins out over art every time.
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Speaking of writing, Fiorella is engaged in the third revision and the story is really fleshing out. For instance, she now knows that Bram is a nickname for Abram, which explains why a guy who's half Czech has a Dutch-sounding name.
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Fiorella plays the piano every morning to keep her hands, fingers, and brain-eye coordination working, but she sings for the pure joy of it. Yes, the botox shots to her false vocal chords are finally working.

Fiorella in Three

Fiorella, a let's-face-reality kinda gal, does not understand people who aren't, the ones who prefer fiction, who cling to anger and revel in lies. How can anyone still support Trump? Don't they see by now that the emperor has no clothes? And even worse, that he doesn't know he has no clothes, that he's living in his own self-delusional world?
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Fiorella is still reveling in the birthday greetings she received yesterday. Birthdays are important to Fio, and she celebrates not only family birthdays, but the birthdays of her friends as well. It's her way of saying she's glad they're stilll walking this earth with her.
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Fiorella is a dog servant. When Sonia wants out, Fio opens the door. When Sonia lets herself in, Fio closes the door. She dishes out Sonia's kibbles, refills her water bowl as needed, and periodically washes the vinyl dog tray Sonia's bowls rest on. Then there's the required morning pet, which must include clucking and a body massage, and then there's the  required distribution of rawhide bones throughout the day. Yup, Fiorella is dog tired.

Morning, Noon, and Night

Fiorella lives by lists and systems. Her major lista is the one she writes down for the next day (manana), but she also consults her calendario. Her sytems include such things as feeding la perra her daily pildoras--Fio puts a gob of peanut butter on the handle of una cuchara o tendedor (spoon or fork), sticks una pildora in the mess, and presents it to Sonia, who eagerly gulps it down.
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If there's a body count category for the Mexican telenovela awards, La Piloto will win it hands down. Not only have the extras died like flies, but several of the minor characters have also been killed off. Of course, our heroine is in peril--again. The only way she could save the life of la bebe de una amiga (who had been killed) was to surrender herself to the sadistic Santamaria. Of course, she was rescued by Dave and her friends, but not before Sanamaria, quien no es un santo, strung her up by her wrists and branded her with a red hot cattle iron. Her scream could be heard all the way to Hollywood.
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The day is surprisingly cool for central Texas in late June, and the house is quiet. Maybe Fio can get through a couple more chapters of her work-in-progress before anyyone gets back to the house. Ah, pandemonium, I know you well.

Claiming Her Canine Rights

When Sonia dog realized we were preparing to go out yesterday, she slipped past Husband, padded around the car to "her" door, the one Fio always opens so she can hop up onto the back-seat hammock, sat down, and waited expectantly for Fio to open said door. This is a new trick on her part, but not suprising. Sonia is a dog who looks and learns. But Fiorella isn't dumb either. Hauling a 120-lb dog who's posed like the Great Sphinx of Giza back into the house is impossible, but luring her in with a spoonful of peanut butter took only a minute or two.

Favorite Time of Year

Autumn is here. It was below sixty degrees yesterday evening, and Fio didn't get a single mosquito bite when she hiked up to the mailbox.. She does have a cold though, but she can deal with that.
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Fio is, at last, back to work on her book. Strangely enough, the heartbreak of last week has strengthened her resolve and sharpened her pen. She will write deep, she will write strong. She will send her messages out to the world.
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Sonia Dog has had a couple of re-occurrences of her leg problem, but she is now bouncing up the stairs with ease again. Of course, while she was down, Mommy and Daddy had to switch on and off sleeping on the couch with her so she wouldn't yelp all night.
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Fio and Husband got some important gardening work done just before the temperatures dropped, and twenty-six boxwoods now guard the edge of their front yard.  Next spring, Fio plans to plant nandenas and a third ligustrum. Anything to cover the AC units.
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Husband is talking about chopping up some dead tree limbs for firewood. The time is at hand.

Tidbits a la Mode

Happy birthday to Sonia dog!  She is five wonderful years old today, and Fio loves her more than ever.
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Fiorella's prediction of two more Trump biggies before the election has come half-true, but Fio's timing was off.  Instead of it coming before the third debate, it came at the end of it, and el hombre malo provided it by calling Clinton a "nasty woman" like a second-grader saying all girls have cooties. Now let's see if there's another reveal between now and November 7.
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When Fio opened her front door and picked up the newspaper this morning, she noticed there were a few dead leaves on it and the porch.  Aaah--fall is here at last.

A Dog's Life

Fio was thrilled when Sonia Dog began burying rawhide bones not only in the couch and the newspapers, but OUTSIDE because she is the first dog Fio has ever had who did so.  But recently Sonia has taken to digging up bones from the yard and bringing them inside to chaw on. Fio is not as thrilled.

It's Time

When Sonia dog's toenails click like castanets as she trots downstairs. When she snags the bathroom rug and the Jacquard bedspread. When Fiorella realizes she would have been better off if she'd invested in Neosporin ointment and Hello Kitty band-aids than Disney.  Then Fio knows it's time to take doggie to the vet and get her toenails clipped and sanded.

Taxes, Shelves, Strays

Fiorella finished what she could of the taxes today and sent the rest off to the CPA.  Next year it's going to be easier, with Fio's new business charge card and the file system she's setting up.
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Fio and Husband are working on the shelf wall in the den now.  He doesn't know it, but the shelf wall in the living room comes next.
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Neighborhood update: Gizmo, the large, fluffy friendly dog is loose again. Friend Mickey called Fio to get the name and phone number of the owner.  This may be a continuing story.

Fiorella, alias Nancy Drew

The dog was big, fluffy, friendly, and lost so Fiorella collared him and attached the leash to the wrought iron bench on her front porch, then walked all the way up hill and down to check out the "lost dog" notice that Husband remembered was posted to the telephone pole which functions as the neighborhood bulletin board.  But there was no such sign.  Girding her loins, Fio started the trek home, but Neighbor Mickey, who was driving by, spotted her and stopped in the middle of the road to exchange pleasantries, which is something one can do on a country road.

Mickey said the dog had visited her house too, and her sister was taking care of it.  Nothing for Fio to do but trudge up past her own driveway to Mickey's house, where she learned that Cindy thought the dog was owned by someone on the east end of Wind Ridge Cove.  Fio went home, got the car, drove up to Wind Ridge, took down some addresses because no one was home, returned to the house, and consulted the partial telephone list left over from a neighborhood cedar-chopping project four years before.

The first number she called was a bingo. The Wind Ridge resident told her the name of the woman who owned the dog and supplied a phone number, which Fio dutifully called.  No one was home, of course, but she left a message and expects the dog will be claimed by evening.

The Mystery of the White Dog--solved by tenacity and great detective work.  Applause, please.

  

Morning

Fio awoke this morning to see the eye of the fire, the last burning ember, watching over her through the screen.  And out the window, the back porch light lit the darkness like a yellow moon. Awakened by Fio's activity, Sonia Dog adjusted herself against Ftorella's side, then went back to sleep again as Mommy reached under the couch for her laptop to type this entry.

Good morning.  May your day be blessed.

Medical Update

Oops--slight correction. It will take a whole week for Sonia to heal from the platelet injection, which means Fio will be sleeping on the couch in the den for a while longer--or maybe she'll be sleeping on the floor and Fio will sleep on the couch. But the discomfort will be worth it if Sonia will be able to walk up and down the stairs again.

Dog to the Vet

Sonia Dog is scheduled for a trip to the vet's office today for a regenerative procedure called ProTec Platelet-Rich Plasma. Her joints have been bothering her for a while now, and, for the past couple of days, she's been in too much pain to mount the stairs to the master bedroom. Instead, she yelps her distress from the first floor and won't quit until Fiorella comes downstairs to bed down on the couch with her.
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As Fio understand it, the vet will withdraw blood cells from Sonia and replace them with hyped-up cells, and we should see noticeable improvement in about a week.

Wish us all well.

New Skills

Fiorella has expanded her repertoire.  She now knows how to send photos from her cell phone to email and Facebook.  For instance:

Sonia Dog is checking up on her peops.

Cops and Robbers

Fio had an adventure yesterday.  While she and Husband were in the garage discussing his workbench extension, two black vehicles flashing red and blue lights send the gravel flying as they pulled into the driveway.  Fiorella walked out of the garage to find out what was going on, and one of the officers yelled "Get back inside!"

With images of a deranged psycho killer flashing through their heads, Fio and Husband sprang into action, closing the garage door and locking every other door in the house.  Then they watched out the window as a German shepherd led its handlers across the driveway into the wild area between their property and the neighbor's.  Was an escaped felon hiding there? Had someone reported a body? How about a snarling bobcat or a rabid dog?  Maybe that guy their daughter has a protection order on?

Twenty minutes later, the officers packed away the dog and zoomed out the other end of the driveway, again spraying gravel.  It didn't seem to Fio and Husband that the dog had found anything, but they didn't know whether it was safe to unlock the doors so Fiorella called the sheriff's office. The incident had been taken care of, she was assured, although her informant wouldn't any give her any details.  There was supposedly no continuing threat or danger, and Fio and Husband could go back outside.

But for some reason, they decided to spend the rest of the afternoon indoors.