Rounding out Heaven

Fiorella's heavenly addenda include finding everything of hers she has lost or that someone has taken from her or destroyed, like that autograph book her Brownie mates signed before she left Ohio, her painting of Grendal she took to school in the twelfth grade, her grandmother's and great-grandmother's engagement rings, the ceramic she molded of a beloved guinea pig.

And Fio wants to reunite with her parents (although her father will probably be playing golf with Gabriel and the guys) and to visit with friends and family who have preceded her.  And she wants to cuddle her first baby, the one who was never born, the one for whom she still mourns.  And she wants to see all her dogs--Tina, Freelove, Sandy, Blackie, Hugo, Bella, Wendy, and, when her time comes, sweet Sonia. Heaven wouldn't be heaven without dogs.

Heaven, Heaven

Sunday, an appropriate day to talk about Fiorella's idea of the hereafter.

As she often said, in heaven she will sing.  And she will also draw and paint and design.  And she will move from conversation group to conversation group, deep-down learning Russian and German and French and Spanish and Teleugu and Hindi and Mandarin and every other language available.  And, of course, she will write--essays, poems, short stories, novels, plays, songs.

But she will not clean house.

Taxes, Shelves, Strays

Fiorella finished what she could of the taxes today and sent the rest off to the CPA.  Next year it's going to be easier, with Fio's new business charge card and the file system she's setting up.
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Fio and Husband are working on the shelf wall in the den now.  He doesn't know it, but the shelf wall in the living room comes next.
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Neighborhood update: Gizmo, the large, fluffy friendly dog is loose again. Friend Mickey called Fio to get the name and phone number of the owner.  This may be a continuing story.

Fiorella, alias Nancy Drew

The dog was big, fluffy, friendly, and lost so Fiorella collared him and attached the leash to the wrought iron bench on her front porch, then walked all the way up hill and down to check out the "lost dog" notice that Husband remembered was posted to the telephone pole which functions as the neighborhood bulletin board.  But there was no such sign.  Girding her loins, Fio started the trek home, but Neighbor Mickey, who was driving by, spotted her and stopped in the middle of the road to exchange pleasantries, which is something one can do on a country road.

Mickey said the dog had visited her house too, and her sister was taking care of it.  Nothing for Fio to do but trudge up past her own driveway to Mickey's house, where she learned that Cindy thought the dog was owned by someone on the east end of Wind Ridge Cove.  Fio went home, got the car, drove up to Wind Ridge, took down some addresses because no one was home, returned to the house, and consulted the partial telephone list left over from a neighborhood cedar-chopping project four years before.

The first number she called was a bingo. The Wind Ridge resident told her the name of the woman who owned the dog and supplied a phone number, which Fio dutifully called.  No one was home, of course, but she left a message and expects the dog will be claimed by evening.

The Mystery of the White Dog--solved by tenacity and great detective work.  Applause, please.

  

Revelation

Fiorella's friend Jeanell has had a change of heart.  It is no longer as important for her to have her name out there so everyone knows who wrote her various opuses as it is that her voice gets out there. After all, a name is merely a convenience, a way of telling people apart, but one's creations are the signature of the soul.

Walking, Watching TV, Wondering

Apparently 66 degrees, overcast, no wind is Fiorella's ideal walking weather.  She went twice around the driveway and realized she could easily have made two more rounds.
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Fio turns thumbs down on a new TV show, "Long Lost Family," which reunites adopted children with their birth parents.  There's a lot of yearning and weeping, but does anyone consider how the adoptive parents (the real parents) feel when the joy of their hearts finds them inadequate?
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Why are human beings individuals rather than clones?  Why are we all so different?  Think about it.

Raconteur

Fio knows this is the second Tuesday of the month because that's when she meets with friends Ashley and Carol at Starbucks.  Carol couldn't make it this time so Fio and Ashley were the only ones yucking it up.  Yeah, they laughed and chortled and cackled, mostly about Fiorella running into the police car.  It was horrible that it happened, of course, but what else can one do but make a good story out of it?