Cliche Heaven

A leopard can't change his spots. Trump, true to form, is playing his presumptive President-elect role like an episode of his TV show, making deals which he may never be able to fulfill in return for thunderous applause from his fans in the pits. For these fans, it's a cliche of bread and circuses when his victory tour hits town. But as for those who disagree with him, especially another TV show, they're out, as fired as he can make them because it's his way or the highway. Unfortunately for America, his way is the low way.

Precious LittleTime

Shock--Fio forget to post today, which is understandable with the schedule she's trying to keep. She raced out of the house this morning to meet with a friend at Starbucks--the same friend she stood up the day before because Fio was waiting at the wrong Starbucks--only to wait again because this time she was 24 hours too early. What else to do but drive off to the post office to buy Christmas stamps. The machine didn't carry them so she had to join the tail end of a l-o-n-g line. Bored to tears after finishing off all her physical therapy exercises as she waited (neck, shoulders, plies), she started talking to the people standing behind her.

The line refused to move, but Fiorella overheard a post office lady (who was moving up and down the line with a whip to keep the lions in check) tell someone that H-E-B sold Christmas stamps so Fio said good-bye to her new friends and sped on up to H-E-B, only to stand in a new line, this time at a register. Fio asked for nativity stamps, but the clerk said she only had Santa stamps, but that every register had a different stamp. Now your Fio was not about to spend her precious time standing in line at twenty registers to find out which one of them carried a stamp appropriate to her Christmas card so she walked over to the service desk and--voila!--the clerk had an acceptable batch of stamps on hand. Fio bought 100, which should put the national treasury back in good shape, then zoomed down to Hobby Lobby to buy more red ribbon for decking the halls, then drove home via Walgreens, where she picked up pildoras (pills) and a few Christmas treats.

The whole journey, Fio smiled a lot, talked to everyone, and even exchanged cards with a few other artist types. Yes, Fiorella on the roll is a sight to behold--and perhaps beware of. She is not the person her mother wanted her to be, but  Mother is long dead, and although  Fio feels her maternal love more and more every day, her strictures have faded away. Fio is Fio, and she will continue to devote every minute of her time to saving the world.

Finger Practice

While Austin son and his wife were at the house decorating the tree, Fiorella started thinking about "O Christmas Tree" and "Deck the Hall" so of course she pulled out the carols book and headed toward the piano. She hadn't played any of the carols for a year, but now was the time to start practicing. Surprisingly, her fingers half-remembered the notes, and she even sang a little. This is going to be a good Christmas,

Tis the Season

Step four of Fio's Christmas decorating. She decked the driveway with strands of tinsel last weekend, got all the storage bins in during the week, and yesterday she put together the twenty-year-old family Christmas tree. Come afternoon, Austin son and his wife drove up from Bastrop to put up the lights and decorate the tree, which is a monumental undertaking because Fio has MOUNDS of ornaments. She posted a photo of the wonderful results on FB this morning, but she still has to roll her mother's embroidered tree skirt under the branches. Step four will be the swag along the staircase railing, which will take at least a day, and step five will be hanging the plastic snowflakes from the little tree out front, which Husband usually is kind enough to help with. Later will come the swags over the living room door jamb, the dining room door jamb, and the dining room window. By Christmas day, every shelf and surface in the house will be loaded with tinsel and Christmas what-nots. Yes, Fio is a decorating fool. ENJOY!

Luann Rules!

Back to Luann. The comic strip has really picked up speed since its rocky transition from her high school days to her college career. Fio has especially enjoyed following the maturation of her brother, Brad, and his relationship with Toni Daytona. She likes Luann's parents too, and she also appreciates the fact that some of the students from Luann's high school are still in the scene--Bernice, Gunther, Tiffany--and that some have reentered the story lines, namely Leslie (the high school bully who is reforming himself), that Goth girl  (but where is Knute?), and Ox,  Now Fio wants to follow up on the teacher, the guidance counselor, little Elvis, and Bernice's brother. Inquiring minds want to know.

Christmas Sonnet, 2016

Fiorella has received her first Christmas card of the season so now it's time to release her own greeting, a sonnet by friend Jeanell. And yes, it's political. She calls it her battle cry.

INSTEAD

HE COULD have come at the head of a howling horde,

a mob of wrathful demons recruited to scour

the earth and ravage it with fire and sword

in a full-court press to prove his might and power.

HE COULD have loosed the rivers, burned the sky,

melted mountains, destroyed the face of the moon,

have swept the planet clean, to purify

it for a New Creation, coming soon.

INSTEAD, he came as a child, a helpless babe

born in a stranger’s stable on a death-cold night

with neither shield nor buckler nor armored plate

to defend himself in the battle he would fight

and win, as darkness always yields to light.

As God prevails, and wrong must yield to right!

Christmas, 2016

Copyright,  Jeanell Bolton

Language Addiction

Kifallah! 

That's how you say "hello" in Egyptian Arabic, which adds yet another greeting to Fiorella's ever-growing repertoire.  She learned it from the golden-haired  clerk who checked her out in H-E-B a couple of days ago, then solidified it in her brain by repeating it to the woman yesterday when Fio realized she'd wound up in the same register line.

Where did Fio's fascination with languages come from? Maybe from the early exposure Fio has previously described--her great aunts and uncles teaching her a "soft Russian" phrase ("God, give health") to use when she sneezed, maybe from a Louisiana-born neighbor teaching her to say "I love you" in French, another neighbor teaching her hose to count to ten in Spanish, her mother teaching her how to count and recite the alphabet in German. Maybe from moving from Ohio to Texas and having to learn a whole new version of English. Maybe from her desire to communicate with everyone she meets, or from her own weird brain, which seems to be attracted to unraveling intricacies.

Whatever, Fiorella is hooked. The next time she goes through Goldie's line, she'll ask her how to  say "thank you."