Breakfast

I like to eat
Shredded Wheat--
Soggy or dry
I testify
It's a treat
That can't be beat

I am replete

Walter Farley, I Knew Ye Well

Fiorella met four wonderful Arabians yesterday when she visited friend Patricia's ranch, a mare, two of her offspring, and the young'ns' uncle.  The uncle was a brindle of grayish-brown flecks on white, the other three were white, and they were all beautiful.  More important, they were all sweet, gently vying for treats and attention like large dogs, but with softer noses.

Wonder how Sonia Dog would react to Fio keeping a horse in the back yard.

Thanks to All

Fiorella is very fortunate to have good friends, like Jason, who is restoring her baby car for her.  And like Lisa, who told her about two tax deductions she needed to take advantage of.  Like Janece, who regularly gives her sympathy and wise council.  Like Suzy and Ellen, who support her across the miles.  Like Pat, whom she's never met in person.  Like Paula and Sharon, who've stood by her through the years.  Like Jamie and Patricia and Claire, who've helped her with electronics.  Like Jane and Jan, who make her laugh.

And if this reads like an acknowledgment page, it is.

Forever Home

Fio and Husband attended a neighborhood association get-together on Sunday afternoon, talked to a lot of people, ate good food, and had a great time.  Then yesterday, when they had parked on the road by the side of their dry creek to pick up rocks for the driveway, their neighbors to the south spotted them and came over to help load the trunk.  And, probably because Husband had turned on the car's hazard lights while he and Fio were so precariously parked, four neighbors who were driving by paused to ask if Fio and Husband were okay.

Fio wants to live here forever.

Dear Diary

Fiorella received a small lockable diary as a birthday present when she turned thirteen, but she didn't know quite how to use it.  In books, stories, and TV mystery shows that Fio has seen in the years since then, young women write their hearts out in their diaries, but Fio thought she was supposed to use it to record her daily schedule.  Monday--school, homework, watched TV.  Tuesday--school, homework, Campfire Girls.  You get the picture.  Her reasoning was that if the police ever asked her where she had been on a certain day at a certain time, she could whip out the diary and prove her innocence.

And also prove what a dork she was.

Up, Up, and Away!

Hold on tight because Fio is on an upswing, probably because of friend Pat's good vibes.  She practiced piano yesterday, finished off all the income tax tallies, concocted a stand-up cone that now holds up a photo for her renovated shelves, left messages for all the people she was supposed to contact, and attended a neighborhood meeting.  Then--wonder of wonders, she integrated the critiques into her novella.

And today she'll (gulp) go through the Allstate information and consider her options.

Too Much, Too Much!

All is not well in FiorellaLand.  She messed up and appeared at the Bee Cave book signing one week early--only about a 130-mile two-way drive--then drove back through Austin to have lunch with nephew Aaron and his wife--again, not realizing she was one week early for that too.  Husband, who did most of the driving, was nice about it, but Fio is still fretting.  She hates to waste time.

Why did Fiorella get a week ahead of herself?  Probably because she's been living in overload--the car issue is still hanging over her (gnashing of teeth), the gentrification of the den is at a standstill, there are still has two phone call messages she needs to answer, she has to send the final income tax information to her CPA and supply him with necessary documents, and then there's her cell phone, which is on the outs.  Oh, and she needs to get back to her novella, which, timewise, is taking longer to write than the Bible.

Lay your hands on this blog and send healing vibes to Fiorella.