What Fio Doesn't Understand

1)Fio doesn't understand why it is that sometimes she can transfer her photos from FB to her blog and sometimes she can't, like right now, which means you are missing out on is a nice picture of the lavender plants that Husband planted in the front-porch urns last week.

2)She also don't understand why she has to use FB as the intermediary, why she can't just unload pics from her phone onto her blog.

3)She also doesn't understand why the TV "guide" has stopped working and half her channels are now labeled "to be announced."

4)She also doesn't understand why her favorite shows get pre-empted for football games. Surely some better arrangement could be made.

5) She also doesn't understand why Lucifer and Big Bang Theory, the only two English-language shows that she watches, are scheduled on the same day and at the same time, forcing her to make a choice she doesn't want to make.

The Yard

 Facebook is, as advertised, really great for connecting with old friends and acquaintances. Of course, Fio always tries to put her best foot forward.  The photos she posts are framed and cropped so no one will know Fio has a pile of mulch in a corner of the yard and the bayberries still aren't hiding the AC units the way she wants them to.
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Fio's latest outside endeavor, aside from the driveway edging, is lining the west side of the house with cast iron plants. The flowering sages, which had reigned there for about ten years, caught some kind of fungus infection and Fio had to whack them down to the roots, then ask Fernando, her wonderful yard man, to finish the job. But, alas, Fernando comes just once a month so Fiorella has to do the replanting replacement all on her own. Dig, Fio, dig!

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The only drawback to having a driveway lined with rocks is that a riding mower can't get over them gracefully, which is the reason Fio and Husband replaced the rocks with easily-movable four-foot-long landscape timbers at strategic places along the way.  Then Fio realized that although Husband can get his own riding mower through four-foot gaps, Fernando's professional mower needs a five-foot gap. So, yes, that was Fio you saw at Home Depot having eight landscape timbers cut to five-feet plus (just to be sure), lowering the passenger seat of Husband's car as far as possible so the timbers could be loaded, then driving slowly and carefully home and unloading them.  And one of these days,  she promises, she'll get them distributed.

Tripartite

When the speed limit is 70mph and you are busting down the highway at 80mph and you're still being passed by every car on the road, when you have such extreme claustrophobia that you can't take an MRI without being knocked out cold and a concrete highway wall is hugging your left side, when your baby car is is suddenly surrounded on three sides by trucks as tall as skyscrapers--then you have experienced what Fiorella did when she was driving into Austin yesterday to meet with friend Evelyn at Starbucks.
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Yes, Fiorella has finally figured out how to download photos onto her blog. It was by accident, of course, as all great discoveries are made. After she had posted a baby picture onto her Facebook timeline, she wondered if she could copy a pic from there and put it onto her blog. What the heck--might as well try. AND IT WORKED--expect to see more illustrated Fio in the future. Now to look for other problems Fio can solve just by fooling around with them.
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Fiorella and son are planning to display examples of their art in the church art show this year, the one she bombed last year. It should be--uh--interesting.

PS: Think kind thoughts toward Fio. She's driving into Austn again this morning to get her false vocal chords shot up with botox, the only known way to combat essential tremor.

Who, What, Why, When, Where

(1) Why is the Easter chocolate put out on the supermarket shelves the second the Valentine's chocolate has sold out? Can't Fio's diet be given a sporting chance?

(2) Who will show Fiorella how to move photos onto her blog again? She has a beautiful baby photo she wants to show off.

(3) How did the Austin American-Statesman screw up its comic section two weeks in a row, once last week by not including it in the paper, and again this last Sunday, by reprinting the previous Sunday's comics? Please--inquiring minds NEED funny papers.

(4) What is it about these people who are still posting nasty stuff on Facebook about the Obamas? Why aren't the hoeing their own political gardens? When will Trump's fans finally figure him out? What will it take for them to realize they've been taken?

(5) Where does all Fiorella's time go?  Why is she writing this post at 11:30 at night when she's half-asleep and feeling blue?

Trump--The Man Who Would Be God

Fiorella has noticed that the Republican Presidential candidate is not on a first name basis with himself,  instead preferring to refer to himself as "Mr. Trump" or "President Trump," Even more preferable of course, is "God Trump."
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Have you picked up the pattern?  Whenever The Donald is in an uncomfortable situation--like visiting a black church, or being a guest on a talk show, or shuffling off to Mexico like a trained bear--he is totally non-reactive. There is no identification with his audience, no crossing of wits with Jimmy Kimmel, no meaningful discussion. The man has has no empathy, no wit, and no brain.
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Trump's FB ads have been a weird cross of hucksterism and begging.  They've also been amateurish--grammar errors and bizarre photos.  Fio suspects Trump and the Trumpets are making the videos themselves in the old Apprentice studio in Trump Tower, then billing the Republican National Committee big bucks for their "labor."

Good Times Are Here Again

Fiorella couldn't make her new computer move any of her Gallery pics into Facebook so she drove down to the Verizon store, asked for help, and a nice young man showed her how to do it directly from her phone.  Now she needs to learn how to move a photo onto her blog.
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Fio just got another check from Half-Price books, which sells her books at full price.
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Fio and Husband took nephew Aaron and his new wife out to lunch at Frisco, an old-time Austin establishment that the family has patronized since Husband was a child.  Good food, good service, good conversation.  Wonderful day.

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.

Icon Madness

There are fifty-one icons on Fiorella's desktop, and when she's tried to drag them hither or thither, they mess up her other icons.  In fact, not only did her blog icon get buried and become an enormous orange B, but when she opens it, the page is one of her old blogs instead of the current one, which means she must go through extra steps to get to her composition page.

Fio wants to be able to arrange her icons  and repair her blog, and she wants to be able to move most of the photos off her desktop into some sort of storage bin. And she wants to write down the steps to do these things for her own private laptop instruction book.

Any takers?  Fio has a PC.

Pass the Pen and Papyrus!

Your girl is having problems with her computer again.  It refuses to send photos by email.  In fact, the six photos she tried to send on Tuesday gummed up the machine so badly that, even after she called her server to try to find out what the problems was, the laptop wouldn't allow her to send mail out till yesterday when Husband--AKA Fiorella's Help Desk--was finally able to clear out the clog.  But Fio still can't transmit photos, which irritates the heck out of her.  Fio does not like to be stymied!

And, while she's at it, she also doesn't like the way her laptop makes strange maneuvers just because she's accidentally hit a few keys wrong!

Getting Personal

Today will be a good day for Fiorella if she doesn't second-guess tomorrow.
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Friend Katie doesn't think anything of it when she swims 100 laps.  Fio considers herself an Olympian if she takes the dog twice around the driveway.
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Fio's still waiting for her surgeon to call her in for post-facelift photos. Could it be that he is not as thrilled with the results of the procedure as she is?
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