Big House

When Fiorella was a child, she dreamed of living in a Cinderella castle. As a young woman, she cast an ambitious eye on pictures of celebrities' palatial homes.  But in her maturity, she has realized that a large home is never quite one's own. If Fio, with her 3000 square feet, employs a bi-weekly maid and a once-a-month yardman, and is now looking for an as-needed handyman, how many people--full-time staff--would the upkeep of a 10,000 sq. ft. "home" require? Or a residence twice that size? There's no way Fio could slip into her Cinderella gown and waltz her way through that large a house without bumping into a squadron of maids dusting, cleaning, and mis-arranging her furniture.  Pity Queen Elizabeth.  Her castle is not her home.

Waco, Old and New

Surprisingly, Fio survived her high school reunion. She talked to a lot of people, ate too much, and spent way too much time driving around New Waco and looking for Old Waco. Her elementary school has been replaced by a new school, her junior high is now a vacant lot, and her high school is a downtown apartment building.  The nice neighborhood she grew up on is going downhill fast.

To top it off, she and Husband spent an hour out in the hot sun checking out tombstones to find her parents' graves before they finally gave up and sought help from a cemetery employee. Then there was the flower arrangement Fio tried to make for the grave vase.  Sorry, Mom.  Fio's brain and fingers were fried by then.

But I love you.

Cousin Mimi

Fiorella's Ohio Cousin Mimi and her husband visited on Tuesday, and Fiorella is still basking in the glow.  She hadn't seen her cousin in about ten years, and this was the first time Mimi had ever been in Fio's home.  The house was its usual chaos, of course, but who cared--the important thing was that Mimi was sitting on the couch beside Fio, talking to her, laughing with her, catching her up on everyone and everything. And through it all, Fio felt the kinship, the pull of blood to blood.

Family is everything.
.

Birthday Dog

Sonia's birthday was Tuesday, and Fiorella missed it, for which she profoundly apologizes.  After all, it was a very important BD for doggie, her third, which means she is now twenty-one years old in dog years--old enough to vote, to drink, and to make her own living.

Sonia may not be holding down a job yet, but she has matured.  She isn't as interested in rawhide sticks as she used to be, and she doesn't chew on anything else at all.  And yesterday, Fiorella was able to persuade her to ignore four deer in the woods within fifteen yards of her, even when they bolted.  Also, whenever Sonia breaks leash now, she heads straight for the front door and waits on the porch to be let in.

She knows where she belongs.

.