HERE 'TIS, THE POSTING FIO WROTE FOR THURSDAY, AT LAST!
Slept late, awakened at seven-thirty by a tapping on the window above the balcony doors opposite the bed.
The black-crested titmouse, silhouetted against the morning light, was scurrying back and forth on the window sill, pausing to flutter madly, and pecking again and again.
Who are you, blithe spirit, and why do you want in my house? And if I DID open the door to you, who would turn out to be?
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
If You Wondered What Happened . . . .
Fiorella is frustrated--and a little bit angry. The frustration has to do with all eighteen of her letters to Lenovo being returned as supposedly being to the wrong address. And with the trouble she is having entering the Golden Claddagh, a writing contest,including PayPal suddenly deciding her password is incorrect. The anger has to do with BlogSpot, which took down the site for a couple of hours Wednesday night but couldn't get it up again. Fio's Thursday blog was erased, then restored, but the one she had ready for today has TOTALLY disappeared. It's not even in her "edit" file any more!
Fio is P-I-S-S-E-D.
Fio is P-I-S-S-E-D.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
HEA
Fiorella spent most of her work life leading an insular, anonymous life teaching at colleges and universities, when what she really wanted to do was get out in the world, make a big splash, and maybe even change things for the better. Which, she hopes, is what she's doing right now, but instead of gallivanting the globe, she's sitting in her den with a computer in her lap.
Yes, our Fio is a crusader at heart. Her books feature protagonists who overcome their pasts and themselves to end up happily ever after, role models for readers to identify with and garner hope from. Of course, the HEA in romances is marriage to a rich, handsome man who's good at sex, which is not going to happen for most women. But Fio sees the formulaic ending as more symbolic of success and happiness than a promise of reality. And one can always dream.
Yes, our Fio is a crusader at heart. Her books feature protagonists who overcome their pasts and themselves to end up happily ever after, role models for readers to identify with and garner hope from. Of course, the HEA in romances is marriage to a rich, handsome man who's good at sex, which is not going to happen for most women. But Fio sees the formulaic ending as more symbolic of success and happiness than a promise of reality. And one can always dream.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Quoth the Raven
Who's that knock-knockin' at my door? And windows?
Fio runs to the front door to see who's rapping while Wendy Dog charges up the stairs to the window on the landing. But no one's there. Returning to the den, they settle in again, Fio on the couch to continue working on chapter fifteen, Wendy on her raised bed to recover from her strenuous labor.
Tap. Tap-tap. Fio and Wendy rush to their stations again, still to no avail. Fiorella steps outside to see if a FedEx delivery person maybe dropped a package at on the porch and sped silently back up the drive. But no package, no nobody, no nothing.
Tap-tap-tap. Wendy rushes all over the house, barking and looking out, but Fio heads straight to the glass front door just in time to catch a glimpse of a lavender-colored bird sporting a dramatic black crest.
When Husband gets home, he hauls out his mother's old copy of Field Guide to Texas Birds and looks for likely candidates, but none quite fit the--uh--bill. "Is there such a thing as a black-crested titmouse?" Fio asked. Where that came from, she'll never know, but it was spot on, pages 172 and 141.
So now Fio has an identity for her avian visitor, but why the constant visitation?
Fio runs to the front door to see who's rapping while Wendy Dog charges up the stairs to the window on the landing. But no one's there. Returning to the den, they settle in again, Fio on the couch to continue working on chapter fifteen, Wendy on her raised bed to recover from her strenuous labor.
Tap. Tap-tap. Fio and Wendy rush to their stations again, still to no avail. Fiorella steps outside to see if a FedEx delivery person maybe dropped a package at on the porch and sped silently back up the drive. But no package, no nobody, no nothing.
Tap-tap-tap. Wendy rushes all over the house, barking and looking out, but Fio heads straight to the glass front door just in time to catch a glimpse of a lavender-colored bird sporting a dramatic black crest.
When Husband gets home, he hauls out his mother's old copy of Field Guide to Texas Birds and looks for likely candidates, but none quite fit the--uh--bill. "Is there such a thing as a black-crested titmouse?" Fio asked. Where that came from, she'll never know, but it was spot on, pages 172 and 141.
So now Fio has an identity for her avian visitor, but why the constant visitation?
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Armadillo Repellent
The armadillos are back so Fiorella is using the same no-cost repellent as last year, and it's working. In fact, it's working better this year because Husband has devised a dispenser that allows Fiorella to walk along the edges of the planting beds, dribbling the repellent out in an even stream as she goes.
What he did was hammer a nail through the lid of a one-quart plastic milk bottle to make a small-diameter hole (adding another, tiny hole because of something to do with air pressure). So simple, so clever, so economical. All Fio has to do is fill the bottle with home-produced repellent, snap the lid back on, and walk the walk.
Ah! Country living!
What he did was hammer a nail through the lid of a one-quart plastic milk bottle to make a small-diameter hole (adding another, tiny hole because of something to do with air pressure). So simple, so clever, so economical. All Fio has to do is fill the bottle with home-produced repellent, snap the lid back on, and walk the walk.
Ah! Country living!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Eyes, Neighborhood, Writing
Fio's recovery is progressing. The skin around her eyes has gone from red and black to yellow and purple.
*
Cedar Hollow Road looks like a drunken Arab wrote all over it with black tar, which means either a dribble truck drove down its length or the county is repairing cracks left by the winter freeze. Guess elections are right around the corner.
*
Fio got turned down by all three agents who expressed interest in her, which is discouraging. On the other hand, failure is the route to success
*
Cedar Hollow Road looks like a drunken Arab wrote all over it with black tar, which means either a dribble truck drove down its length or the county is repairing cracks left by the winter freeze. Guess elections are right around the corner.
*
Fio got turned down by all three agents who expressed interest in her, which is discouraging. On the other hand, failure is the route to success
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mothers' Day 2011
It's Mothers' Day--
Thanks for the call
The gifts and bouquet,
But most of all
Thanks for your love
Thanks for the call
The gifts and bouquet,
But most of all
Thanks for your love
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