La Familia Corcega

Fiorella is fascinated by the distinctiveness of the members of la familia Corcega, Juan Pablo's extended family on her telenovela, Mi Marido Tiene Familia. Imelda, la abuela (the grandmother), is something of a conniving despot. Her hijo mayor (oldest son) runs the family bakery and is a solid, but old-fashioned guy with a wife and four adult children. Her second hijo, Tulio, is rich, has a beautiful, but nasty wife, and no children. Her third hijo, Audifaz, is a mess of braggadocio who has a sweet wife and a nice son.

Then there's the third generation. Juan Pablo, the hero, is smart, kind, loving, and so sensitive that his weeping is beginning to annoy Fiorella. His older hermana (sister), Marisol, is the very model of una esposa buena y madre (good wife and mother), but su esposo (her husband) has left her. Daniela, next in line, is a spunky nino-nina (boy-girl) and one of Fio's favorites. Linda, la bebe (the baby) is downright mean.

Add in Juan Pablo's lady love, Julieta, who is just as weepy as he is, and su madre (his mother), Blanca, a good woman prone to fits of screaming anger, plus Tulio's esposa, Ana, who is mainly concerned with herself , and you have a cage full of tigres (tigers). Oh, and has Fio mentioned la madre de Julieta, Catalina, a squinty-eyed villain who can't get along with anybody?

But there's one character that justifies the whole show for Fiorella--Gabriel, who's not related to la familia Corcsega, but wants to relate to Daniela. He's rico (rich), guapo (handsome), funny, has an expressive face, and is unbelievably acrobatic. Every time Fio turns around, he's falling out of something or over something, but he always lands on his pies (feet)--as Fio is sure all the Corcega family will by end of el producion (the show).


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More Than You Wanted to Know About Fiorella

Fio has done many dumb things in her life, and sometimes those memories jmmy open the doors of the past and tell her what an idiot she has been. But still she marches on--what choice does she have?
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Fio picked up one her romances and started paging through it. OMG--it's good! So good that she forgives herself for having her theater director say "practicing lines" instead of "running lines."

Fiorella has always known she was one who stood apart. Maybe because Mother preferred it that way, maybe because Fio was born that way. It doesn't matter. It is.

Fio has a full tank of false bravado that shakes and quivers when challenged. Maybe that's why she always felt safe on stage or behind a podium--because everything was choreographed and she knew her role.

Fio hopes that in the future, every unwanted fetus will be placed in a machine that will incubate it to term so it can be adopted by a loving family.

Professional Sports

 Fio doesn't have a problem with amateur sports, when people play for fun and exercise, but she destests professional sports, the ones on TV, the ones that attract stadiums full of people and pay players frighteninglyenormous salaries. They are over-loud, time-consuming, and interfere with Fio's productivity. She needs silence so she can think, so she can organize and create. She needs all the minutes and hours she can get because a clock never runs backwards.  And she needs to to be busy at all the times because accomplishment is what make her life worthwhile. And while she's ringing her cowbell, she doesn't like senseless competition either because someone always senselessly loses. The only person we should compete with is ourselves. That way, we're all winners.

Surprise Phone Call

OMG, as Fio was sitting on the couch working on Phillipa's story, her ophthamologist called to tell her how much she'd enjoyed reading WHAT THE HEART WANTS! And said she's going to read WHERE THE HEART LEADS too! Fiorella is thrilled! What an upper!

Halloween

Our gap-toothed pumpkin face is carved and lit
And witches' squadrons ride our windowpanes
While vampires, devils, ghouls--in counterfeit--
Seek treats or trickery at our door again.
My children hold me tightly by the hand
As I escort their Halloween debut
And shrink from every boisterous beggars' band
Because they fear the trumpery is true.
So I explain and soothe and hold them close
And tell them all is clever-made deceit--
Each Frankenstein, a playmate grandiose
Each ghost, a neighbor child wound in a sheet
But yet--a sound, a touch, a shadow--hark!
I glance behind my shoulder in the dark

Homegrown Firewood

Fiorella and Husband have been storing up firewood for winter. He discovered four dead oaks in a thick thicket of cedars a week back and the pruners and chainsaws were called into action.  We set up a couple of sawhorses near the edge of the western woods, and, over the next couple of days,  Fio hauled out promising dead branches while Husband sawed them into fireplace lengths.  Next, we loaded the logs into the trunk of Husband's car and delivered them to the firewood rings in front of the house. There's probably have enough firewood to last a mild central Texas winter, but we may cut and saw another long branch or two, just to be sure.

Fiorella loves being firewood self-sufficient. It's not just that supermarket wood is pricy, but that it's sawed and shaped to fit in small apartment-sized fireplaces, and Fio's fireplace is almost four feet wide. Also, there's something "Little-House-on-the-Prairie" satisfying about burning wood you've harvested off your own land.  In fact, Fio got so carried away by the pioneer spirit that she grabbed her pruners and hacked her way through the jungle behind the house, making a pathway to the huge boulders she'd spotted a couple of months ago, but couldn't get to because of the cedar.

The time will come when Fio and Husband will have to leave this wonderful untamed land, but not yet, not yet.