Akron Aftermath

Fio dove into the deep end and worked out an acrostic with the names of her paternal cousins, then added in their spouses, and is sending a copy to each one of them as a bread-and-butter gift. She's planning on photcopying old family pictures for her cousin on her mother's side.
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Fiorella likes the way Daughter interacted with both sides of the family. Needless to say, she related more to the younger generation than  than to Fio's agemates, but that's as it should be. If the families are to stay togther at all in the future, they have to make solid bonds now.
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Everyone takes Fiorella's art for granted, but she thinks it's pure magic and has no idea how it  happens. Some sort of weird collusion of her imagination, hands, and eyes, totally unrestrained by her brain. (Collusion--that word pops up everywhere.)
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Fiorella will admit it--she made a complete ass of herself in Akron. But then, she's never been one to do things by halves.
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 Oops, Fio almost forgot. She promised to send the genealogy research she did on her own thirty years ago to the Keeper of the Family Tree, one of her cousins-in-law. More stuff to track down--good thing Fio is working on the "office," which contains all things your faithful correspondent didn't know where to put for the last century or two.

Contemplations

The way Fio sees it, her fire comes from her mother's family, and her steadfastness comes from her father's family.
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Fiorella has no control over anything or anyone, and sometimes she even loses control of herself.
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Not until this year has Fio realized how many bad people there are in the world. In fact, they seem to be in the majority.
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Is there even one woman on TV who is wearing her real hair color?
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Leaving, my dear, is not what I do
Instead, my dear, I stick like glue

Counting Blessings

Fiorella is triply blessed. Daughter is researching information for her about the car Fio has decided her latest hero drives, Austin son has been keeping Fio up-to-date on Grandbaby's walking and talking, and Minnesota son helps Fio over the phone with on-line stuff like cell phones and ordering eyeglasses. Come to think about it, Fiorella is surrounded with blessings--her neighbors who bring her rocks for her driveway, the nice man who mows her lawn and cuts down her dead trees, and the woman who cleans her house and teaches her Spanish. Then there are the people at Click Computer, Mazda, the local Chase Bank, and Capitol One. And don't forget Fio's longtime friends, most of whom are writers, and the new friends she's made on Facebook and through this blog.

God is good.

Reflecting

Fio has long been asking, "But what if God turned off the electricity?" Little did she know the atheist Russians would beat Him to it.
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Fiorella doesn't go along with the "saint" concept. We are all God's children and no one person is elevated above the others, although some sink lower.
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Trump is a con-man, a huckster, a snake-oil salesman, and his basest base like that about him.

YEAH!

What a wonderful Christmas! Minnesota son and his wife came down a week ago to help Husband and Fio prepare the house for the family celebration, and Daughter drafted her aunt and sisters-in-law to help with food prep. But baby was the star of the show, as far as Fiorella was concerned. Granddaughter is almost standing now, and we think she said her first word--yeah!
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It was interesting having five alpha women in the kitchen--Fio, Sister-in-law, Daughter, and both daughters-in-law--but Fiorella thinks she will bow out next year. It's time to let the torch be passed. Of course, all the visitors flew back to their own nests in mid-afternoon, but the leftovers stayed here, which means that Husband and Fiorella have enough ham, turkey, salmon, and sides for a week. Yeah!
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Now that Christmas is over, Fio is girding her loins to go forward to the new year, which means working out some financial dealings that have gone on for far too long. Yeah!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Fiorella and Husband are off to Brother's house to enjoy a family get-together. Daughter and  Austin son's family, as well members of Brother's wife's family will be there too, but the star of the celebration will be Baby, the most beautiful, charming, intelligent child in the whole wide world. Fio is bringing with her the family christening gowns so Baby can try them on, but it's been almost ten months since she was born and the gowns may be too small. Fio hopes not. A century of  infants in Fio's mother's family wore those gowns, and Fio hopes Baby can too. It would be a blessing.

Dinner with the Old Belle

Dinner with the Old Belle

She sat across the restaurant table from us, chewing on her hamburger steak, then spitting it into her napkin, which she discreetly emptied beneath the table. I knew from past experience that when she finished her meal, she would wrap the leftover rolls in a Kleenex and stuff them inside her purse. It was hard to stomach eating across from her, but she was family, and we knew our obligation.

Joyce was a widow, my husband’s much-older sister. Her hands were gnarled from arthritis, purple blotches colored her arms, her head shook, and her voice didn't work right. She had once been beautiful, a debutante, the belle of the ball.  Now she dyed her hair red in the bathtub and insisted it was her natural color, dressed in bargains from the thrift store although she could afford better, and, this evening, had hung a cameo from her neck by a chain attached to a large safety pin that winked at me every time she moved. She looked like a bag lady we were treating to a decent meal.

The dinner conversation was strained. I remember that she asked us for ideas as to where she could meet men her age, and all we could think of was antique car shows. 

As we left the restaurant, a flurry of white-haired women came in—laughing, well-groomed, confident women enjoying each other’s company.  They recognized Joyce as a schoolmate and called her by name, smiling and reaching out to her.  But she shrank back in horror, not allowing them to touch her.

She was too young to be as old as they were.

Birthday Girls

 Because Fio's birthday was last week and Daughter's birthday is next week, they combined their celebrations and met at Central Market in Austin. That way, Fio didn't have to drive too far from Georgetown and Son and his family didn't have to drive too far from their home near Bastrop. The party lasted about two hours, so it's safe to say that a good time was had by all, but Fio was especially thrilled that, when she got to hold Baby, Barbara made a grab for Fio's nose, sucked on Fio's finger, and pulled an earring out of Fio's earlobe.

A special treat was that Daughter stayed at the table for a while after Son and family left, and she and Fio had a searching talk. Fio is still glowing with pride about the thoughtful, straight-seeing, compassionate young woman that Daughter has become.

Overnight

7-19: Fiorella has given up on the house--it will be what it will be. But she hasn't given up on herself. Instead, she's doubled down on her own life and what is important to her--writing, languages, art, family.

7-20: Fiorella woke up bursting with joy. Maybe it was that she slept soundly, without disturbing dreams, and apparently in such good posture that she could mmediately leap to her feet without her back hurting. Maybe it was that she ate the right things yesterday (chocolate chip cookes,  hamburger, chocolate ice cream?) or that her book is moving, really moving, again. Maybe it's that the irritating webs cleared from her brain ("Gene Kelley and Fred Astaire" were her first thoughts of the morning.) Maybe it's that she had a long, rambling phone conversation with Daughter yesterday, or that she attended church with friend Sharon, then had a two-hour visit with her. Maybe it was because her telenovela is resolving or because of the Russian flavor of the stupid Colbert show. Or maybe it's an intimation of something wonderful about to happen. On the personal scene, will all Fio's personal problems be resolved? On the national scene, will Trump be trumped?

Whatever, Fiorella cannot stop grinnng. She feels cleansed, powerful, and ready for action. God's in his heaven, and all's right with the world.

Greetings!

We're having two Easter celebrations this year, yesterday with both sons, their wives, and Baby, and Sunday with Daughter as well as Minnesota son and wife. Chocolate bunnies are rampant.

HAPPY EASTER! CHRIST IS RISEN!

Traveling

Hooray, hooray! Hip, hip hooray!
Son and wife arrive today
To visit us and also meet
Their two-month niece, our Baby sweet.
God keep them safe along the way
And bless us all, I humbly pray

Tis the Season

Step four of Fio's Christmas decorating. She decked the driveway with strands of tinsel last weekend, got all the storage bins in during the week, and yesterday she put together the twenty-year-old family Christmas tree. Come afternoon, Austin son and his wife drove up from Bastrop to put up the lights and decorate the tree, which is a monumental undertaking because Fio has MOUNDS of ornaments. She posted a photo of the wonderful results on FB this morning, but she still has to roll her mother's embroidered tree skirt under the branches. Step four will be the swag along the staircase railing, which will take at least a day, and step five will be hanging the plastic snowflakes from the little tree out front, which Husband usually is kind enough to help with. Later will come the swags over the living room door jamb, the dining room door jamb, and the dining room window. By Christmas day, every shelf and surface in the house will be loaded with tinsel and Christmas what-nots. Yes, Fio is a decorating fool. ENJOY!

Happiness Is a Happy Family

Minnesota son, who is visiting to help Fio and Husband in the aftermath of Husband's hospital stays, celebrated his belated birthday yesterday. In the afternoon, he drove into Austin for a get-together with Brother and Sister, and, in the evening, Brother came to the house and was joined by Cousin and Wife. There were a lot of stories and a lot of laughter, which warmed Fio's heart.  She slept well last night.

Key

Friends and family, love and laughter are what get Fiorella through the day. Sometimes she has to work on the last two.

Cruz--1, Trump--0

Dear Senator Cruz:

I disagree with most of your policies, but I laud your non-endorsement of Donald Trump because of his comments about your wife and his libel of your father.  You are right--family comes first.

Yours,
Fiorella Plum

Baby Hungry

Fiorella always pictured herself seated in a gracious chair with all her family gathered around--her husband, children, nieces and nephews, and, eventually, her grandchildren.  But such was not to be.  Her brother has no children, and Husband's nephew is only a few years younger than Husband. He did produce two nice great-nephews for Fio, though, but nobody--none of her children or the great nephews--have gone any further, and it makes Fio sad.

Not just for herself, because her DNA will be lost forever, but for her parents, whose line will come to a total end, and for her parents-in-law, whose surname will hit the stop sign.

Hoarders in the Family

As Fiorella's hands set rocks around the driveway, her brain was busy trying to piece together the psychology of her late sister-in-law.  In her later years, BJ became a classic hoarder.  Narrow paths wound their ways between the piles of treasures in her architect-designed home on a prestigious street in an exclusive Austin zip code.

Maybe BJ's hoarding was because her parents had died on her, one of her sons had been killed, and another had been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. But BJ had a third son who was very much alive and sane.  And two grandsons to boot.

Maybe the  hoarding was a genetic thing--BJ's aunt had been a hoarder.  Maybe hoarding had once been a survival mechanism for the human race.

Fiorella didn't draw any conclusions about BJ, but at least a lot of rocks got put in place.

Passing Fad?

Fiorella has albums full of photos, boxes full of photos, drawers full of photos, even cabinets full of photos.  She knows what her grandparents looked like because of these photos. Her own life and her children's lives were documented in these photos.  But no more.  Not since the cell phone camera arrived on the scene. The newbie was fun to aim and shoot, a novelty--but few of the photographs were ever printed.  And when the cell phone died, the photos died.

History became oblivion.

Selling the Book

Fiorella has been busily engaged in recruiting people to pass along bookmarks advertising her and her books, the one coming out in September and the one coming out next year.  She hit up her cousins in Ohio, Tennesse, and Georgia first, then branched out to friends and people who had expressed an interest in her literary career.  Everyone she has approached has graciously asked for bookmarks, which means Fio is arranging to get more printed.

Would you like some?

History

Family histories are only half true, at least as far as Fio's family goes.  Where memory fails us, imagination takes over--yes, we are a creative bunch.  We embellish and alter, and we don't even realize it. Fio bets other families do the same.  And countries do too.

The truth is many-layered and obscure--another example of alternate universes.