And he walks with me...

If you've never met Pops, or if you haven't spoken with him in the last 15 years, you have no idea what a green thumb he's developed. From our front yard landscaping overhaul (so long ago it's tough to remember having just grass) to his back yard gouradtorium to the revamped rock garden (complete with homemade fire pit) to the many new attractions around the new porch, Pops is singlehandedly supporting the nurseries of central Lake County.

The newest addition, on the west side yard where we used to have just sun-baked lawn and later, for many years, a vegetable garden (anyone remember the massive pumpkins?) was, until Monday, a blank canvas of dirt surround by paving stones. On Labor Day, though, Pops set to sinking a good deal of new green stuff in the dirt. Which, of course, attracted Jack like our cat Jeri to a flashlight.

What you see here is (above) a long shot of the garden, taken with my back to our front yard pine tree and facing north toward the back yard. If you look to the right of the garden, you can see Jack, hard at work. The second photo shows Jack plugging away at "his garden," finding homes for the little bits that weren't needed from the big plants transplanted from the back garden into the side.

Of note is that somewhere in this experience, Jack got bitten by some insect he doesn't get along with. Kristie noticed his right eye didn't look normal later in the day. I thought it was pretty chubby when I put him to bed Monday night. On Tuesday he could barely open it.

Off to the doctor (nurse practitioner, actually) Tuesday afternoon. She prescribed amoxicilin and suggested Benadryl. The swelling went down pretty quick (Jack: "Now I can open my eye!") and, aside from other bites on his arms and legs, he seems to have weathered everything pretty well.

He was amazingly good at the doctor's office (and even more so for our return visit Thursday), letting her take his temperature and look in his ears and eyes (these are the things that caused him to shriek with terror during earlier visits), so we were pretty happy. And he loves his medicine, which he only gets twice a day.

Giving him medicine used to be as tough as getting pills in the carts. It took at least two adults and three hands, if not more. Now? He's bummed he only gets it twice a day. He walks around with an empty dropper giving me and Kristie imaginary doses and telling us to take drinks when we're done. I'd ask him to stop, but I'm afraid he'd try to cut back on his own intake.