Uptight at NIght

Fiorella had an anxiety dream last night, a variation of the old standard of walking into a classroom and discovering there was a big test she hadn't prepared for.  This time--don't laugh--there were some important visitors coming to the college, and she had to be sure her underwear was clean. So she ran every dainty she owned through the washer--and she owned far more in her dream than in real life because it took load after load and she fell asleep and didn't get the task finished.  That meant she couldn't go to school the next day, which meant she missed out on something big, which meant all of her hard work up to this point had been in vain.

You think Fio is anxious about Kinkaid House making the rounds of publishers or what?

Updating Luann

Fiorella is happy about how things are developing in Luann.  After Toni Daytona turned down Luann's brother, Brad, when he proposed to her on last year's April Fool's Day, Toni proposed to him on this year's April Fool's Day.  He, of course, accepted and even shed a tear.  And so did Fiorella. 

How does a comic strip engage readers like Fio?  By presenting interesting , consistent characters with intertwining stories. Fio was confident that Toni's old BF, Dirk, would reappear at some time, just as she knows Ann Eiffel will re-emerge to tangle with TJ again.  

And the art's good too! 

Linguistic Funk

Fio's down
Distraught, distressed
Feeling discouraged
Deeply depressed

She's also fascinated, as you can see
By the negative words beginning with "d."

Rainmaker

Your Fio can control the weather.

Remember two years ago when she stored bathtub water in half-gallon plastic milk bottles?  Well, she'd like to dump them all off the balcony into the backyard now, but the second she mentions so doing, the skies open up and it rains felines and canines.

If only she'd realized her talent during the drought two years ago.

Antiques

Sorry, my darling daughter, but Fiorella is not about to wrap the Limoges up in tissue paper and store it away in the attic rather than set the table with it for holidays. Sure, some of the gilt wears away with each use.  Sure, some of the pieces will get chipped or broken--some of them already have--but so what?  It's only china.

Fio has a double set of Haviland, inherited from her mother and Husband's grandmother. It's a pretty, springtime pattern of pink roses, more intense in Husband's grandmother's pieces than in the earlier version from Fio's family. Doesn't quite work for Christmas, but ideal for Easter, when Daughter and her husband joined us for a holiday dinner.

While appreciating Daughter's appreciation of antiques, Fiorella has less reverent attitude: if the china/chest of drawers/chair/whatever serves no purpose, it's useless. You will never see Fiorella on Antiques Road Show checking out the value of the breakfront desk that Husband inherited because Fio uses one drawer for correspondence, one for important papers, one for bank records, and one for current bills.  However, on  the glassed-in shelves on top, she'll admit she's arranged photos and well . . .

antique keepsakes.
 



   

Dust on the Rungs of the Rocker

On ten minutes notice, Better Homes and Gardens could have made a photo spread of Mother's house. It was that clean, that well-decorated, that much under control at all times.  In contrast, Fiorella is good at decorating, haphazard at cleaning, and her house is totally out of control at all times. But she has Mother's ideal ingrained in every atom of her being, which means she goes wacko the day before anyone is coming to visit--like for a holiday--like for Easter.  Suddenly she rushes outside and despairs of dead plantings and failed landscaping.  Then she rushes inside and despairs of dirt and disorder.  The she rushes back and forth, trying to remedy eons of neglect in one day.

She'd like to tell you that she's finally realized she, unlike her mother, has worked outside the home most of her life and is now spending hr time embarking on a new career, all of which excuses her from domestic perfection.  But her brain has no mercy.  It remembers all too well the first time Mom and Dad visited  Fio and Husband in the little duplex they had rented right after they were married.  Fiorella, who was carrying a full load of college courses, had not only swept and cleaned, but come up with a clever furniture arrangement she thought Mother would commend.

But such was not to be.  Mother glanced at a comfortable chair stationed next to the TV and glowered.  "The rungs of the rocker have dust on them," she said.

And that, friends, is why Fio goes wacko whenever someone is scheduled to visit.

Springtime

Fio finally changed out the bright red Christmas tablecloth yesterday for one painted with pink springtime flowers.  It wasn't just that she was running behind, but that there were three projects piled on the dining table she had to get through first--the anniversary album, the framing of Son's digital painting, and the genealogy stuff.  The album, she finished; the half-done framing of the painting, she moved to the guest room for now; and the genealogy stuff, she stacked on her desk.

The framing will probably be finished this coming week and the genealogy stuff can't go any further till she hears from Cousin Sue or Cousin Syd.  Meanwhile a million more projects will pop up.  And what about that book Fio's supposed to be working on?