Gonna be quick
I'm feeling sick
Truth to tell
I didn't sleep well
Have nothing to say
So go on your way
And have a nice day
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Miscarriage
The heroine of Fiorella's telenovela had a miscarriage, which opened wide the memory gates that time had built around Fio's own miscarriage.
She remembers how, with her dripping blood all along the way, she and Husband had to wind their way alone through the entrails of the dimly-lit night-time hospital because her obstetrician didn't show up at the back door like he said he would. How she didn't know she was having a miscarriage and went into surgery thinking the doctor would make her bleeding stop and all would be well. How afterwards she was assigned to the maternity wing because the other wards were full, and some senile old nun doddered in and asked what she had, then turned huffy when Fio said she had a dog and a guinea pig. How when it was time for her to leave, the staff member helping her down the hall said the hospital wouldn't let her have a wheelchair because then she'd feel sorry for herself. How one of her neighborhood friends told her that the miscarriage was God's way of saving her from having a deformed baby.
There are some of the better memories Fio has. The worst are even worse.
She remembers how, with her dripping blood all along the way, she and Husband had to wind their way alone through the entrails of the dimly-lit night-time hospital because her obstetrician didn't show up at the back door like he said he would. How she didn't know she was having a miscarriage and went into surgery thinking the doctor would make her bleeding stop and all would be well. How afterwards she was assigned to the maternity wing because the other wards were full, and some senile old nun doddered in and asked what she had, then turned huffy when Fio said she had a dog and a guinea pig. How when it was time for her to leave, the staff member helping her down the hall said the hospital wouldn't let her have a wheelchair because then she'd feel sorry for herself. How one of her neighborhood friends told her that the miscarriage was God's way of saving her from having a deformed baby.
There are some of the better memories Fio has. The worst are even worse.
Friday, October 27, 2017
Three-part Adventure
Fiorella started the day by meeting up with an old friend of hers, a fellow poet, and they discussed the state of the nation, the country, and their own lives. Carol, who is more philosophically inclined than Fio, calls herself an old soul, but Fiorella suspects she herself is a newbie because that's the only way she can explain the stupid things she's done in her life
On the way home, Fiorella stopped at the post office to mail some packages, but time and time again, the self-serve machine rejected her so she had to get in line for counter service. The woman in front of her was on her phone, and Fio's ear caught a slight accent, so, of course, as soon as the woman finished her call, Fiorella asked her where she was from--PUERTO RICO! The woman had been speaking to her mother to see if the supplies she had sent home had arrived yet, and she told Fio that her parents were lucky because their home was built of concrete and they had a generator, although it would only run for about three hours a day. "Most people are not that lucky," she added.
When it was Fio's turn at the counter, her ear caught another accent. She looked at the post office man, then at his name badge (Hoang) and took a chance. "Vietnamese?" He looked surprised, but said "yes." Fiorella, of course, asked him how to say "hello" in Vietnames, and she thought he said something that sounded like "gau," which she dutifully practiced all the way home until she suddenly remembered that years ago Michele Bidelspach had taught her that "chao" was how to say it." Maybe the post office man was using a dialectal version or maybe Fio's linguistic ears aren't what they used to be. She's betting on the latter.
On the way home, Fiorella stopped at the post office to mail some packages, but time and time again, the self-serve machine rejected her so she had to get in line for counter service. The woman in front of her was on her phone, and Fio's ear caught a slight accent, so, of course, as soon as the woman finished her call, Fiorella asked her where she was from--PUERTO RICO! The woman had been speaking to her mother to see if the supplies she had sent home had arrived yet, and she told Fio that her parents were lucky because their home was built of concrete and they had a generator, although it would only run for about three hours a day. "Most people are not that lucky," she added.
When it was Fio's turn at the counter, her ear caught another accent. She looked at the post office man, then at his name badge (Hoang) and took a chance. "Vietnamese?" He looked surprised, but said "yes." Fiorella, of course, asked him how to say "hello" in Vietnames, and she thought he said something that sounded like "gau," which she dutifully practiced all the way home until she suddenly remembered that years ago Michele Bidelspach had taught her that "chao" was how to say it." Maybe the post office man was using a dialectal version or maybe Fio's linguistic ears aren't what they used to be. She's betting on the latter.
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Yo y Mis Lentes
If you have a collection of plastic pill bottles you want to go to a worthy cause, consider Matthew 5 Ministries, 11060 Kenwood Road, Cincinnati, Ohio 45242. Used eyeglasses can be sent to New Eyes, 549 Milburn Avenue, P.O. Box 332, Short Hills, New Jersey 07078. Fio's just sent her boxes off and hopes you will consider doing the same.
Speaking of glasses, Fiorella has two new pairs. The way glasses disappear on her, she always has to have a back-up. She's convinced that when she gets heaven, all the lost glasses will come tottering toward her in a single accustory line.
But Fio, you say, why don't you get contacts or have your eyes lasered? Because I have permanent lenses by way of a cataract operation, Fio answers, and anyway, I think eyeglasses make my squinchy eyes look bigger and more limpid. Don't you?
Do you have graduated lenses, you further inquire? No, I tried those a couple of years ago and they didn't work at all. The optician said it was because my nose wasn't the right shape, which I've always thought was hilarious--and unique.
Besides, it's not as if Fio wears her glasses all the time--just to drive or watch TV. Otherwise, she fling them wherever they land. Oops--maybe that's the problem.
Speaking of glasses, Fiorella has two new pairs. The way glasses disappear on her, she always has to have a back-up. She's convinced that when she gets heaven, all the lost glasses will come tottering toward her in a single accustory line.
But Fio, you say, why don't you get contacts or have your eyes lasered? Because I have permanent lenses by way of a cataract operation, Fio answers, and anyway, I think eyeglasses make my squinchy eyes look bigger and more limpid. Don't you?
Do you have graduated lenses, you further inquire? No, I tried those a couple of years ago and they didn't work at all. The optician said it was because my nose wasn't the right shape, which I've always thought was hilarious--and unique.
Besides, it's not as if Fio wears her glasses all the time--just to drive or watch TV. Otherwise, she fling them wherever they land. Oops--maybe that's the problem.
He Never Met A Stranger
Fio is her father's daughter. Dad always had a smile on his face. He talked to waiters, bellboys, people in cafeteria lines. No wonder his nickname was "Buddy," and he was president of his high school class. No wonder he moved upward at work, despite having only a class or two of college. No wonder he was able to organize bowling and golf leagues.
Fio is her mother's daughter. Mom had the eye and knew not only how to dress, but also how to decorate home and garden. She was a hard worker, devoted to her family, and particularly sensitive to the needs of children and old people. Musical-harmonica and piano by ear. Lovely singing voice, but shy about singing. Shy about people too, the axact opposite if Dad, but she was a dtermined PTA member both to help her children and because a PTA scholarship had helped her finish college. Spelling, loyal to PTa, perfect attendance.
Fio is her mother's daughter. Mom had the eye and knew not only how to dress, but also how to decorate home and garden. She was a hard worker, devoted to her family, and particularly sensitive to the needs of children and old people. Musical-harmonica and piano by ear. Lovely singing voice, but shy about singing. Shy about people too, the axact opposite if Dad, but she was a dtermined PTA member both to help her children and because a PTA scholarship had helped her finish college. Spelling, loyal to PTa, perfect attendance.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
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