Skip to main content
Bowden had a very hard night Friday...he complained Friday afternoon that his knee hurt, that his brother and sister had hurt it in their wrestling, and he cried when he put any weight on it, and Josh carried him down to the meals in the dining hall.
He was up all night with a low grade fever and a knee that wouldn't let him sleep. At 4:00 am, when I got up with him for the third time- Josh having been up with him more- he asked how long until morning...and I felt so bad for him. I had just given him some ibuprofen, and it seemed to help him enough to let him sleep. I woke up at 7:00 grateful that he hadn't woken again...he slept until almost nine, and I brought him up breakfast. He had asked for the tiny soda- reserved for the "der sickies" in the house, so I let him have it- he ate the whole meal, mostly because he had it in bed.
I left Miles on the other bed to keep Bowden company while I took care of the kids downstairs.

Lucy was jealous. She wanted the little tray, and to be coddled. She loves Bowden too much to be jealous for long, though...she hovered like a little momma. Bowden felt well enough to go to the parties we had lined up...I think he lost his energy halfway through, though.


Popular posts from this blog

In September, we were gifted a wonderful stay at a fellow pastor's vacation home- a lovely little pink house with shells everywhere and two huge rooms just perfect for all of us.  We were just a walk away from the white sands and calm, clear ocean, and we spent more time than my pale and sand-hating husband understood, but it was just lovely.  I have pictures on my phone, but I only pulled out my big camera for these few on the first day.

It had a fenced yard for the dog, a golf cart to drive us the two blocks beachward and lots and lots of shells and quality family time.  This was the trip that we watched Knight Rider together, so that's notable.
Brother Job texted his sweetheart, although we didn't know it was his sweetheart taking him away from us.

Summer in Florida

This is our fourth summer in Florida- a number that amazes me.  I still don't feel at home here, although  I know my way around.  I don't feel completely out of place in the supermarket, but I have this suspicion that everyone knows I'm not from here, and they know that they don't know me.  That special kind of paranoia belongs to the homesick, and even while I acknowledge its foolishness, I still feel it.
Summers- I may have mentioned this before- are the worst. 
     It's partly an issue of comfort, or rather, of discomfort.  The long summer days are hot and sticky, the bugs are ravenous and abundant, the plants are vindictive with thorns and poison, and the air itself is attempting to decompose your body 37% faster than air in dryer climes.*  If there is a spring or pool to soak yourself in, it's fine, pleasant, even, because there are no ticks in the water, and you can usually avoid mosquitoes under the water.  To Florida's credit, there are any nu…