Alone in the Woods

Fiorella was out on the land again today, having a wonderful time pulling rocks out of the ground and throwing them down the bowling-alley lane that she'd hacked out of the tangled woods with her pruners so su piedras would be nearer the entrada de las coches that she, as always, is shoring up so it doesn't wash out when la lluvia comes. There's something invigorating about hard physical work, and there's something inspiring about working in the woods, especially if one is all alone. Fio becomes a child again, a child who wonders about everything, a child who is sure there is a lost civilization under her feet, who talks to the rocks and the trees.

And they talk back. The trees are self-sacrificial, of course, but the rocks can be difficult. Fiorella is glad to report that they've finally gotten over their snit about Fio paying more attention to the gathering of la lena during the cold, hard winter, and are once again presenting themselves to her as candidates for driveway guard duty. They are worthy soldiers, and Fio can ask for no more.

Theories About Nature, Arab Wars, Trump's Core, God, and Self-confidence

Fiorella has spent about an hour outside lately harvesting rocks from the acreage to shore up those brave soldiers already positioned around the driveway. It's heart-warming to see that so many rocks that that weren't ready to be pressed into service last years are volunteering this year. (Side news: mis rocas have come off their ego trip and are willing to be called piedras this year.)
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All this 100-degree heat is making Fio understand why the Arab countries are always at war with each other.
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Fiorella's theory is that Trump's basest core will stick with him even if he sets the White House on fire. It's like he's their dog, no matter that he's sent a neighbor kid to the hpspital.
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Fio isn't going to post this on FB, but she thinks the Catholic church is more susceptible to pedophilia and like abuses because the clergy is considered to be on a higher level than laymen. Wise up, people--everyone is the same in God's eyes.
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The secret to getting something done is to believe that you can.

Ah, Nature!

Yes, that was Forella stumbling into the house after an hour outside in the ever-warming sun hauling rocks and dragging cut cedar branches out of the forest. She also spotted some dead oaks that would make good firewood and dragged some of their better limbs to the side of the driveway. Why all the physical labor, you ask. Well, first, for excercise and that sometimes Fio likes to be alone in silence. Second, because Fio gets a lift from accomplishing something tangible. Third, because she is frustrated with all the ceremony that goes on with getting a new computer up and running. The latest glitch, aside from the missing key code, is that she can't print anything because the computer lacks the needed printer driver--whatever that means.

Written Against the Odds

Except for the Jesus portrait Fiorella did for her brother when he was a child, Fiorella does not do religious paintings. She considers them, even the famous masterpieces, to be fantasies that all too often people take for real and embed with supernatural powers, like the Russian icons, like "holy" water, like religious medals. For Fio, God is all around us, in every breath we take, and the veneration of material items is a mistaken form of worship. (No, Fio would never have bitten off the toe of a dead "saint" and take it back to Rome with her.)
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Now that the weather has turned, Fiorella is turning her attention to her rocks again. She emptied the trunk of the car of the bigger rocks she'd filled it with a couple of months ago and filled her little red wagon full of smaller rocks she'll back the bigger ones up with, if any of that makes any sense. If it doesn't make sense, blames it on the scorpion sting and the mosquito bite Fio got while clearing out her rock pile.
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WARNING: Dora, la computadora, has been acting up lately and Fio doesn't know what's going on. In case Dora doesn't heal herself, Fiorella might be out of touch for a day or two.

Environment

Fiorella speculates that all things, sentient or not, have spirits and, as such, have the same desire to be useful that Fiorella does. That the fallen tree limbs volunteer themselves for the fireplace--which is so much more noble a sacrifice than rotting in the yard--and that the rocks trip her on purpose so she will notice them and add them to her driveway edging. And always soft-hearted, Fio makes a point of reassuring the branches and rocks she has to leave behind that she will be back for them another day.

Maybe Fio took Girl of the Limberlost too literally.

Thanksgiving Season

So, Fiorella, what have you been up to recently? Aha---acknowledging everyone who has contributed to the rock edging around your long, long driveway. And hey--that timber is five feet long!

Rock Warning Plus Tidbits

Fio went out in mid-afternoon to tow her little red wagon full of creekbed rocks along the driveway and shore up problem areas, but she received  a stone cold reception from her troops.  In fact, she received no reception. They totally ignored her, which sort of scared her. What had she done to estrange her wonderful rocks? She laid out a few new recruits, then stopped and considered. It was so hot out, and the air was so still. OMG--the rocks were telling her to go in and gulp down some water, that she wasn't safe out in the heat today! Thank you, my darlings.
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Fiorella has never been knocked unconscious that she knows of. But after the fact, does one ever realize one has been unconscious?
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Let's spend less on museums and more on affordable housing, on the furure rather than the past.
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You do realize, of course, that if Fiorella couldn't write on Blogspot, Facebook, Documents, or her lista amarilla, she'd scratch what she wants to say on sidewalks and cave walls. Do you also realize that Fiorella, who started this blog very cautiously, now regularly spills her guts and tells you things no one else knows?
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All good things in Fiorella's life are referred to as Baby--her dog, her laptop, and her granddaughter. Rejoice with Fio.

Purely Fiorella

Fiorella grabbed a nice handful of servietas at Starbucks as she was heading out of la puerta, y ellas came in handy. El dia was blazing caliente and su automovil had been sitting en el sol por dos horas so her car seat and steering wheel were burning. Thinking fast, Fio stuck a servieta under each pierne and grasped una servieta in each mano before she pulled out of her parking space and headed a su casa.
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Yesterday was up and down. Way up and way down. Fio was ecstatic when Richard at Mazda called to tell her that baby car was all healed and ready to go home early--and that the bill turned out to be $500 less than expected. But her day started going downhill when she stopped by the post office on the way home and left her purse and keys in the car, then locked the door. A nice passerby let her use his cell phone and Fio called Husband, who arrived with Sonia dog in the back seat. About two hours later, the locksmith arrived. And to think, Fiorella thought she would get a lot of writing done because her lista amarilla was so lightweightfor the day.
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Fiorella has discovered a wonderful new rock bed (cama de rocas) behind the chainlink fence separating her back yard from the jungle beyond, and she's already pulled several of them up and tossed them over the fence, where she'll pack them into her little red wagon to tow up to the driveway to reinforce su mura pequena, but that's the only mura she'll ever contribute to

Mixed Bag

Running late today, but everything is upside down and round-about in Fiorella's life right now. Minnesota son is here to help while Husband is in knee-surgery rehab, but every time Fio turns around, something else goes wrong, like this morning, when she discovered her car battery was dead.. But then there are the good things, like Son jump-starting it for her and, then sending her out to drive around the neighborhood to make the sure the engine understood it had been recharged, which, of course, meant that she stopped on the way back to the house to lay down a few rocks that had been rattling around in her trunk, and a neighbor spotted her putting the rocks in place, stopped, and promised her more rocks.

WIN-WIN!

Late Report

Oops, Fio forgot to post. She's been going back and forth from Husband's rehab center every day, plus meeting with two groups of writing buddies, plus welcoming Minnesota son back to the heart of Texas.  Son is not only a boon companion, but he's committed himself to cutting the rawhide dog bones in two for Sonia dog and fixing some things around the house. He's also great when it comes to electronics. And, no, you can't have him.
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Fiorella plans to start laying down rocas again soon. There are still parts of the driveway edging that need shoring up, and she also wants to shovel up the smaller, leftover rocks to use in other projects. Then there are newly-planted cast iron plants, which all seem to be on their last legs. Fio may have to pay a visit to the Home Depot garden center this fall, but what's new?
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La Piloto is speeding toward its bloody finale. Now that half the population of Mexico has been killed off, the major villains are turning against each other, one of them even shooting himself in the head. In another thread, after being identified as Amanda's murderer, Sulima turned her pistola on Yolanda, la piloto. then took off in la avion (the airplane).
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You do realize, of course, that Fio has always written. And always will.

Fiorella vs.Nature

Fiorella is angry. She took her little red wagon to the creek and loaded it with several stones just the right size to line the porch-line edge of her raised planting beds, but she hit uneven ground as she was hauling the wagon along the fenceline toward the street and it overturned. Not to be thwarted, Fio put the rocks back in the wagon and started off again--but because she hadn't thought to straighten the wheels, the wagon overturned again. Fio was sweating like a pig, the day was so humid she could hardly take a breath, so she decided that, yes, she could be thwarted, deserted the wagon, and staggered back to the house.

Then there are the cast iron plants which won't stay planted despite Fiorella's herculean efforts. And the bayberries, which have betrayed Fiorella by allowing themselves to be ravaged by whatever eats bayberries, and the sages, which developed a stupid fungus and had to be jerked out by the roots, not to mention the dead bird Fio found stuck to the branch of the volunteer mulberry.

When did Mother Nature become such a bitch?

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.

The Household

Fiorella is methodical. She lives by systems and lists. Husband is more of a free spirit, which means Fio never knows where the phone is till she hears it ringing. Grrrr!
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The east creek bed has yielded some very nice rocks, but its footing is more treacherous than the creek to the south, where the rock tree was, and the overgrowth is scary. Who knows what lurks in Fiorella's back woods?
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Has Fio told you that the sages on the west side of the house are being consumed by a fungus? She used her pruners to cut down one of them and ended up with a twenty-minute coughing jag. Allergy? Who knows, but she's planning to use a chainsaw to take the others down with one fell swipe apiece. That is, if Husband can find where he put the charger.

Personal News

The only reason Fiorella switched to Gmail is that Microsoft quit supporting Windows Live Mail, and she's been in trouble ever since. Windows was so beautifully intuitive, and Gmail doesn't make any sense at all.  Far too often, Fio ends up scurrying to Click Computer Repair or friend Patricia to untangle the electronic webs she's woven trying to figure things out for herself. GRRRRR!
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Fio is now officially addicted to La Piloto, another telenovela. El Color, which she still wants to find a DVD set of, was a romance pure and simple, but La Piloto is a fast-moving action movie. Everyone carries guns, even Yolanda, the heroine, who, yes, is in the drug trade, although ultimately, she's going to end up in the loving arms of Dave Mejia, the stalwart, uncorruptible DEA agent. Right now she's engaged in escaping from the arms of Colonel Santamaria, who is chasing down drug dealers, including her former boyfriend, John Lucio, who's fallen under the influence of Zulima, a  practicing bruja, cigars and all.
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Fio finished laying the last rocks in the north driveway yesterday. Now to check out the south driveway to see what needs to be shored up. A rocker's work is never done.

Pre-Easter Scribblings

Fiorella was out tossing rocks across the driveway when one of her neighbors came walking down it with cookies in one hand and an Easter lily in the other, Fio was overwhelmed. Sure, she had delivered a small Easter basket to Neighbor a few days beforehand, but if this was tit for tat, Fio had been solidly out-tatted. Especially since Neighbor also promised Fio a big load of rocks.
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Two of Austin son's dogs got bitten by a snake yesterday, and she prays they are doing well. Thank  you, God, for vets.
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While Minnesota son is talking electronicsand other male mysteries over with Husband today, Fio plans to spirit his wife away to Papi's Pies for a treat.
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Fiorella hasn't been as circumspect as she'd hoped, but her chocolate bunny consumption is way down from preceding years. She's also kept the Peeps in check. But come Easter morning, all bets are off,
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Ah, Easters of the past. Dying eggs the day beforehand, wearing a new dress to church, Easter egg hunts. Will Baby experience these, or are they now out-dated?

Updating Fio

Fiorella has been blessed by two daughters-in-law whom she not only loves, but likes. Thank you, guys, for your good taste in females, and thank you, Jen and Lauren, for being not only wonderful women, but good people .
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It's Easter season, so Fio's put on about three pounds. Who can resist chocolate bunnies?
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Fio's been out on the acreage a lot lately, exploring areas she probably shouldn't be feeling her way through alone, but what the heck--getting lost every now and then is part of the game. It's also a good way to meet neighbors.
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The gigantic rock pile that neighbor Marvin delivered is fast diminishing, but that's okay because (1) the mura pequena is nearing completion, and (2) in her explorations, Fio's found several new caches of rocks.
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Fernando came yesterday and planted three nandenas for Fio, mowed the lawns, pulled out the remannts of a dead tree, and cleaned up the driveway. And you wonder why Fio gave him an Easter tip.

Great Medical News!

Thank you, Dr. Renee Pietzsch! That pain Fiorella has been feeling in her footsies lately, especially the left, more pronated one, has been diagnosed at last--arthritis. And Dr. Pietzsch knows how to combat it, first by padding the arch of the offending foot, then by having Fio rub oitment on the top of the arch, and then, if all else fails, puncturing the arthritic cyst that has formed thereon.

Fio celebrated by going out and laying a cartload of rocks along the driveway--strangely, her feet don't bother her as much when she is out on the acreage. Then she came in and searched through her car and the house for the instruction page and prescription the doctor had given her, but couldn't find them. Her head bent in shame, Fiorella will have to call the doctor's office tomorrow for second editions.

Do Rocks Have Souls?

Fiorella likes living in the midst of an oak-elm-cedar jungle. She likes carving a path through unknown territory with her pruners or following a deer trail. She likes discovering grassy dells, wandering waterways, and evidence of campers from years past. But most of all, she likes her rocks. And they like her back. This morning, while she was gathering a load for her cart, they started talking to her.

"Pick me, Fiorella, pick me!" begged the smooth brown riverstone lying at her feet.

"No! Me!" the limestone intervened, trying to roll onto her path. "I'm more interesting because I have jagged edges!"

The wise old aggregate, safe in Fiorella's arms, intervened. "Calm down. She'll put both of you in her cart eventually. She values all of us, even the pebbles."

And he's right.

Fiorella Rides Again

Fiorella may have had a discouraging time--make that a devastating time--on Tuesday, what with her entire book getting deleted, but on Wednesday, her Austin day, she, friend Paula, Brother, and his wife had a great time laughing and exchanging stories at Dan's Hamburgers. On the way home, Fio bought Easter candy, which is always uplifting, and stopped in at Click Computer Repair, hoping against hope, and Click came through. Travis not only resurrected Phillipa, but taught Fio about something called a recycling bin. Then, high as a kite, Fiorella stopped at Target and was able to buy five boxes of shredded wheat, which hadn't been on the shelves the day before when Husband and a friendly store employee had searched for it. And when she got home, Fio added a cartful of rocks to the driveay murita and took some nice bluebonnet pictures, which she can't show you until Minnesota Son, who's visiting next week, teaches her how to post pics on her blog without messing up.

 So today's a new beginning, and Fio has a light day planned. Primarily, she will work on Phillipa's story, then call the church to find out when she and Austin son should be getting their art in. On the side will be laying down rocks, sorting family photos, paying bills, practicing piano, and, of course, studying Spanish.

By the way, Fio needs more opportunities to practice her Spanish. Does anyone out there know of an instructional DVD or a small local class?

Rock Time

Fio doesn't know what happened, but yesterday she accidentally deleted a long post she was writing for today. Tuesday was just that sort of day. The landline went out again, and it took forever for Fio's cell to charge up so she and Husband could call to wish Baby a happy one-month birthday. Also, Husband was trying to reach Scottrade to get a copy of whatever it is that the IRS wants, and Fio was trying to reach Allstate to get copies of their auto insurance cards, which she has somehow misplaced. Also, Fio has been on-and-off sicky for the past fews days.

And what does she do when all the world has turned against her? She goes outside and tosses heavy rocks around. It's a matter of power and control.