If Only

Fiorella, who has one pair of glasses held together by scotch tape and another scratched by from falling down between her bed and a chest, is very excited that she'll be visiting with her ophthamologist tomorrow--except for the part when her eyes get dilated, which, as you will remember, leaves her with rainbow vision for a couple of days afterword. The good thing is that Son L will accompany her this time around, which means she won't have to drive.

 Fio wishes that Raquel, her long-time maid, would have been with her during the move. She would have been a big help in loading and unloading your girl's boxes and putting together the  studio.

A side story: Fio got her first pair of glasses when she was in the sixth grade, but she wore them only when needed.

Side story number two: she lost her first pair of glasses on a tennis court when she was a teenager.

Side story number three: as you can guess, Fiorella has lost so many pairs of glasses through the years that when she marches toward the pearly gates, she'll probably be followed by a long line  of upright glasses clattering behind her.

 

 

 

From Fiorella to Joan

 Fiorella rides again! Not only did she walk around the local block twice, but she also fought her way through the mightily tangled  Austin American Statesman phone brigade and got her old phone number changed to her current one.

Next on your girl's list was to have Son L drive her over to the hospital to get herself checked out psychologically. Apparently, Fiorella made a good impression on the doctor because she was even okayed for driving. (Don't worry--she's going to wait a while for that one.)

More good news--Fio found her old college German book so maybe she'll be able to practice with cousin Tom after all. Then there were her forays into Russian...and French...and...Spanish...and anything else she could grab onto, none of which stayed with her.😞

Getting tired of all the old, stupid movies on Prime Video.  When is my Doc Martin coming back on?

AACK! Fiorella forgot friend Joan's birthday--not that she'll ever age, of course 💗💗💗

 

 

 

 

From Writing to Reading

 While she was going through her tons and tons of papers, your girl came across a whole first chapter  of a morbid story she has no recollection of writing, but the style was hers, and she dimly remembers that she went through a spooky phase way back when she and Husband were first dating. Needless to say, the pages went straight into the waste basket.

Fiorella's forehead is hurting from that hematoma the stepladder gave her and her shoulder blade is hurting from carrying loads of books from one set of shelves to another. Fio will be happy when all Fio has to do in her studio is write stories, paint, and draw.

Eureka! Your girl suddenly realized that the long chest at the bottom of the bed in her former master bedroom was exactly what she needed to store her clothes in at her new home. 

Fio has yet another medical appointment tomorrow. She's happy the system is so thorough, but it's also a little overwhelming. The good thing is that, so far, she's supposedly in good shape--which is a miracle given the amount of chocolate she downs every day.

Hmm...my newspaper was not delivered on Saturday or Sunday, but one showed up on Monday. And yes, I'll call the newspaper about the situation.

 

 

 

Taking Time Off

 As usual, Fio has been at work on her studio. The floors, where she'd dumped everything, is finally seeing light again and she's pretty well mapped out what's going where in the bookshelves. Son L bought her some two-tided tape that will help with the more stubborn pictures, but it went fast so we're off to Target again.

The Austin American Statesman newspaper hasn't appeared on your girl's lawn for two days now, and there's no way to get hold of the office over the weekend. Fiorella is getting tired of this running battle. GRRRRRRR!

The Fourth of July, and all Fio can think about is when Ellen's family invited all the kids in the neighborhood into their backyard to celebrate. Everyone was having a great time, but we knew the best was yet to come--the fireworks! We were all oohing and aahing at the beautiful colors until--you guessed it--one of the rockets landed on our host's roof. Mr. Paule, needless to s was up a ladder in a New York minute and the other Dads in the neighborhood did what they could. Luckily, there was very little damage....but the Ellen;s family didn't any more neighborhood parties in their back yard again. 

Fiorella's forehead hasn't completely recovered from that whacking it got from the stepladder so she's closing off early today to rest a while--unless something really, really interesting happens💗

 

 

 

 

Short Stop

Congratulate your Fiorella--she is clamping down on her daily chocolate intake so hard that she can hear Hershey shrieking in agony. Yep, there goes its profit margin....

Despite the whapping your girl got from the stepladder when she was trying to organize too many stacks of paper at once, Fio is fast at work in her studio again. Already she has determined that the photos need their own special BIG drawer and that her half-finished novels will need another one such.

Son L is carting your girl all back and forth to various medical appointments these days, and, all the time, Fiorella is remembering when you made an appointment with the local GP, he would loo you over and announce you were just fine--or you weren't, in which case he wrote you out a prescription and sent you on your way. 

And that's about it for today....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTHIS SONNET MEANS MORE TO ME NOW THAN WHEN I WROTE IT

                       TO MY CHILDREN

When I am old, so very old I stink

Of unwashed underarms and brain cell death

So old I shake, my spine and stature shrink

I whistle quake and rattle with each breath

When I am old, so very old I drool

And age spots big as elephants appear

When I forget my name and act the fool

Talking too loud because I cannot hear,

Even when I'm angry, trapped in rage,

Become a miser, call each dime misspent,

When I am cruel and stupid in my age,

When I reject you, scotch your good intent

Remember, once I loved you of my will,

And in my heart of hearts, I love you still💗

From Health to Prime Video

 The first of July and Fiorella isn't all settled in yet. The medical check-ups are her major stumbling blocks --it's two down and four to go. Oh well, it's better than when the kitchen sink clogged up.

Hmm...someone's been fiddling with the arrangements of the pillows in Fio's bedroom. Will keep you informed.

Whew! Son L drove Fiorella to her bank to arrange for more check books to be mailed to her, then to Hobby Lobby so she could arrange for the separation and reframing of what she had been calling Chinese art, but turned out to be Japanese art. 

What about your studio, you ask? Well, it's moving along, but Fiorella doesn't know what to do about her nudes, of which she has a fair number due to that weekly class she told you about. In her old houses, she hung what she considered to be her best poses in the upstairs master bathroom, but her current home is not constructed for for privacy. Translation: your girl shares her bathroom with her four-year-old granddaughter.

Totally changing the subject, Fio is not happy with current choices on Prime Video. Not a one of them can  even begin to match Doc Martin or To the Manor Born.