Good eye!

And, thank heavens for funny relatives!  I think we might use this picture as part of our Christmas newsletter.  Andy laughed and laughed when he saw it.  

Andy has been amazing.  He has been still and glued to the recliner.  (I think the Benadryl's I've been slipping him in the evening have helped) But, he took the doctor seriously.  Today we went in for our first follow-up appointment.  The doctor was very pleased.  The cornea is nearly healed.  The bleeding has stopped.  Now, we're left with a big clot behind Andy's eye.  

The doctor took pity on Andy and gave him "wander around the house s-l-o-w-l-y" privileges until next week.  Until the clot resolves itself there is still a danger.  Andy was actually thrilled to be allowed to shower again.  (Yes, I DO know this will not happen again in the near future.)  So, everything is going well.  We are facing a long week of keeping a very active kid very still, but we can do it, right?  All things are possible if you make ice cream every meal?  Or something like that.  

Keep your fingers crossed.  Smooth sailing for another 7 days . . . we can do this!!!!!

And, thanks for the pictures, John!!!!!  8)

He's okay.

My mom suggested that this story is better if people know right off the bat that Andy is OKAY.  He is.

Today, after going through Math and Latin with Andy, I decided to get a shower.  I left him and Tim working peacefully at the kitchen table.  ::::sniff:::: It was a beautiful scene of scholarly joy.  (You know right now it's going to end well, don't you?)  As I lathered up the shampoo, I heard the wails.

Somehow, they'd decided that the black triangle inside of one of the three-ring binders (don't worry about it if you don't know what I'm talking about) looked like a boomerang.  Tim tossed it in Andy's direction and waited for it to come back to him.  Unfortunately, it hit Andy in the eye.  He did not throw it hard.  He did not aim at Andy's eye.  Nonetheless . . . 

I stuck ice on Andy's eye and had him sit still while I finished getting dressed.  By the time I came back out, the bottom of Andy's iris looked weird.  I called the optometrist.  They asked how fast I could get him there.  10 minutes later we had bumped a patient out of the doctor's office and Andy was inside.  The doctor put some drops in that made Andy's eye green (spooky) and looked at it with all of his doctor stuff.  He tried to work the intercom and ended up shouting for his assistant to call "the professor."  Once "the professor" was on the phone I heard lots of hmm's and yeses and ahaha's.  

The doctor hung up and started writing and sent us to an eye surgeon on the other side of town.  Scary stuff this.  Andy was crying (Andy never cries) and I wanted to cry (I chose to let my blood pressure rise instead).  We drove as fast as the Suburban would go through downtown to the surgeon.  I did not even have to fill out paperwork, the doctor simply saw us as I filled stuff out.  

Good news.  The retina was not torn.  No surgery today.  Andy has something called hyphema.  There is bleeding behind his eye.  For the next two days he must remain as still as possible with limited bathroom breaks.  We've dragged the recliner from Mike's reading spot in our bedroom to the middle of the living room.  It is Andy's new home.  We have drops, painkillers and lots of snacks that Andy only need "snap" his fingers to obtain.  

With luck, the bleeding will have stopped by Thursday afternoon and this will all be a memory.  A scary memory.  Think good thoughts, send your best "petrificus totalus" spells and/or say a prayer for Andy.  

Pictures are included courtesy of Andy - he liked the idea of "sharing" the misery.  8)  I do wish I'd gotten a picture before the green left his eye.  Oh well.  Use your imagination.

Bear with me on the new blog format.  I haven't decided which way to go yet  . . .

Field Trip!!!!!

 It's been a while since I've planned a specific homeschool-related field trip.  But, it's unfair to keep Andy here in the house full time with just me (and sporadic encounters with Ian, Tim and Mike).  AND, it's unfair to make me join a goofy homeschool group in the name of "socializing" Andy.  Andy would be fine in a homeschool group.  Me????  I'm thinking not so much.  I'm old and grizzled and all of that.  

Today, we went to St. Augustine.  This year, Andy is studying American History.  We just finished up a big study on Native Americans and I really want to focus on how the United States became the United States.  St. Augustine seemed like a good starting point.  

Ian and Tim got up early to join us.  We packed a lunch and headed on up.  It was a rainy, cloudy day here.  Still in the 90's, but cool-ish.  We spent a lot of time at the Fort.  It's so cool - it's all built of shells.  It's amazing to think how much smaller people were back then.  The bunk beds and the "broiler beds" (Andy's name for them) are so short in length and it's amazing how many people were stuffed into them.  Toss in the lack of a/c, soap, hot water, regular showers??????  It's amazing anyone stayed in St. Augustine!!!!!!!!

After lunch and the fort, we wandered around town.  Ian and Tim both have serious cameras.  Andy and I wandered ahead as Ian and Tim climbed and crawled over and under stuff.  I will share their pictures tomorrow (if they let me).  I have to say that it's a different city viewed through their eyes.  

All-in-all it was a FUN day.  The drive home was a bit rough.  We pulled over for a bathroom break and somehow I ended up back on the road heading east (home was west).  None of us noticed for about 15 minutes - yes, we talk that much.  THEN, there were NO exits.  ::::sigh:::: In addition to driving an extra 30 miles, we spent an extra hour in the car.  Pretty sad when your entire one-way trip should only take about 100 minutes.  Upside????  Ummm . . .. we were all really, really happy to get home. 

Where I get older and older . . .

Last week Andy wanted a hair cut.  Andy is weird about his hair.  It's fine with me so long as he keeps it clean and brushed.  THIS is his new haircut.  (Ya think the fact that all of the older boys are now sporting super short hair has made a difference?)  

Sniff... look at him.  My baby is only 11 and he looks SO much older now.  And, he looks a lot like Tim.  You may recall that we suffered through a parade of middle school girls stalking, calling, knocking on our door when Tim was about Andy's age.  I don't know if I can face it all again.

WHY?  Glad you asked.  Tim went to the Homecoming Dance this weekend. (Nice allergy shiners, huh? Yay for fall ragweed!)  He opted to go with a group of friends and one of the friends' parents sprung for a limo at the last minute.  I knew all the kids.  Mike dropped Tim off and talked to the parents hosting the pre-party.  What we didn't know was that Tim was going to ride with 10 girls in the limo.  All 10 girls claimed him as her date. 

Imagine my delight an surprise when I got up Sunday morning to find this picture on Tim's Facebook.  Yes, that is Tim with 10 girls and he's holding a baby.  The baby is one of the girls' stepsisters and the girls all thought the picture would be cute since Tim is wearing pink (none of the girls are lol) and so is the baby.  Yes, girls, I hope you, too, one day wake to a picture like this of your son.  Muhaaahahaha. 

(See why I'm freaked out about Andy's hair cut?)  Tim is friends or friendly with all of these girls, but none is a "love" interest.  I kind of wonder what it's like to be Tim.  Wherever he goes, girls (youngest to the oldest) gravitate. I think it's because he's kind and he is a really good listener and he's adorable to boot.  Who knows?

Happy Friday!

I am finally figuring out this new camera.  So, lucky you all . . . you get random pictures! It's Friday - cooking with Alton Brown & Andy day.  Today we made roasted chicken in a flower pot.  I was not totally sold on this idea, but Andy was.  

Here is the finished product.  We could tweak it a bit - I think a bigger flower pot is in order. When we first unveiled the chicken the wings clung to the sides of the "lid" and it was kind of freaky. Bigger pot and truss up the chicken - those splayed thighs are kind of obscene in this picture, but the chicken was delicious.  Crispy on the outside, perfect on the inside.  Yay Andy!!!!!!

There he is, on your left, Coach Mike.  Mike is coaching "The Bills" this season for Andy's flag football league.  They won their first game on Wednesday!!!  Now that I've seen how they'll have the field set up I'll be able to get pictures of awesome Andy in action.  (This is such a relief after last year where the teams were stacked and Andy's team continually played teams where the average height was 12" over the height of the tallest kid on Andy's team.  Losing over and over and over sucks.)  It appears they have this year's league set up with a much more even hand.

Years and years ago I picked up some true action figures - Albert Einstein, William Shakespeare and Leonardo DaVinci (courtesy of the best stocking stuffer site in the world American Science and Surplus.)  They all came with goofy props and I stuck them in the older boys stockings at Christmas.  Andy recently discovered Albert Einstein.  He drags this poor action figure around all day talking to it and posing it. (And people say homeschooled kids aren't socialized????)  

It took my neighbor's daughter to pose him in front of our Apprentice organizer thingie in a running pose.  How awesome?  Now to dig up Shakespeare and Leonardo. 

And, strangely, that kind of sums up our week!  Eight weeks of school down - 32 to go (for Andy).  It was a good week.  I'm looking forward to a few days with no lessons and lots of books and even some cleaning (not really on the cleaning, but you know).  Tomorrow morning is the opera-at-the-movies with my mom. I'm excited - I've enjoyed half of the first two we've seen.  ;)  I don't think I'll ever be a fan of German opera.  Cross your fingers for tomorrow.  I miss the live opera company here in town, but there's something to be said for sitting in comfy chairs and ordering yummy snacks and wearing sneakers to watch something at La Scala. 

Happy weekend!

Nancy Drew

I LOVE Nancy Drew.  I loved her when I was a kid. I secretly loved her as a teenager (comfort books, you know? Nancy Drew, Little Women and The Secret Garden) and I unabashedly love her now (the old Nancy Drew, not the modern Barbi-ized version). 

Andy and I have been spending an inordinate amount of time at the library lately. (GAH! How much do I hate teaching research papers?).  And, we never fail to visit our little library without a stop at the Friends of the Library bookstore near the exit.  I could spend days in that tiny space - so many crazy, great books.  

I was specifically looking for historical fiction and biographies for Andy when I chanced upon some "old" Nancy Drew books.  One was the textured blue cover that I remember reading and knowing those books had been my mom's Nancy Drews. Others had the old-fashioned covers (circa 1964) that I remember receiving for every birthday and Christmas (early-mid 1970's). I cannot even explain how much I loved Nancy Drew - the pumps, the clothes, the formal way they talked - everything.  :::::sigh:::::  No girls here.  The Nancy Drew books went, rightfully, to my niece. I flipped and fondled the books on a recent visit to my sister's house.  ;)  (Nothing creepy about Aunt Amy, really.)

So, there I stood, paralyzed by the Nancy Drew books.  Andy approached, sucking on a mint from the "free mint" bowl on the counter at the entrance.  I wanted to buy them all.  Andy rolled his eyes at me.  "Really, Mom?  Didn't you already read them? Those books will take you about two hours to read again."  I knew he was right, but wahhhhh.  Finally, I bought the oldest one.  The Clue in the Jewel Box.  I read it.  I still love Nancy Drew. I almost feel like I will wake up in the morning and put on a pair of pumps, a crisp linen skirt and a shirt waist and go have someone dye my hair Titian.  ;) 

The picture above shows all the books I found that day.  Nancy Drew, of course, is on the very top.

Art, middle school and all the rest of it . . .

First, art.  Ian was subjected to my art lessons as a grammar and middle school kid.  We did some art history in early high school.  Recently (in the past year) he's developed a real interest in drawing.  He's most definitely my mother's grandson (she's an artist) because he sure did not learn this from me.  He's been attempting self-portraits for a while now.  This, while not the most flattering picture of my handsome, handsome son, is dead-on. (I'll try to get him to send me a bigger version tomorrow)  He makes this face so often when he's concentrating or confused or even just squinting in the sun.  I think it's pretty amazing.  

Next, middle school.  Gah!  Andy is an awesome kid.  He's incredibly easy to deal with compared to his brothers.  I think the lack of brothers sharing the same school work helps.  But . . . he's getting older and I am seeing signs of the evil puberty, mind-sucking phase we're about to enter.  Math today took over two hours.  It was review. But, based on Andy's work, it was a brand new subject.  I'm feeling old.  I don't know if I can do this for a fourth time without losing my mind.  Given our alternatives, I guess we'll all find out together if I can weather the storm.  Not sure who the saint for puberty is, but if you don't mind googling, please bury his likeness in your backyard, upside down.  We're going to need it.  

Talked to Dan on Sunday night.  He's doing really well.  He hates the two remaining Humanities classes he's taking, but what are you going to do? He's really enjoying Calc II and Physics with Calculus - this cannot be my true child!!!!  Apartment living seems to be going well - the four roommates all get along thus far.  He's got a job working in the big dining hall on campus. So far, it's working well.  He gets two long shifts per week and gets to take home tons of food.  According to Dan, it's way better than cutting meat at Winn Dixie.  I'm so proud of him for adjusting so quickly and for just being him.  And, I have to say I felt like a girl getting a call from a boy she likes when he called on Sunday!  ;)  It was so nice to just talk to him and know he's okay.

Not too much else going on here.  I'll be back if I think of anything, though.  (Good news, I have resumed doing laundry and no sign of the lady-who-likes-to-roll-in-the-driveway!)

Talk to me about lamps . . .

I know, we don't know each other all that well, but my living room is killing me.  I know I want to get rid of the monster tv "container" we currently have.  But, I'm stuck with the coffee and end tables and what to do with them.  The furniture is deep red.  The walls are avocado-ish.  The trim is white.  The kitchen is similar and most of the furniture in there is either black (but not deep, glossy black) or distressed white.  I like the kitchen.  I hate the living room.  

I especially hate the lamps we have in there.  But, I'm frozen when I go to look at lamps.  I don't want matchy-matchy stuff but GAH!!!!!  So, please share your thoughts.  I think my problem is an absolute hatred of lampshades.  As far as I can tell they are simply collectors of dust and dog hair.  Have I mentioned my even more extreme hatred of overhead lighting?  It's a dilemma.  Someone come fix my living room, please? (The picture? This is what you get when you google "worst living room ever" LOL)

9/11

It's on everyone's mind. I remember it being one of our first days of homeschooling.  Dan was just-turned 8, Ian and Tim were 6 and Andy was 17 months old.  My mom called and asked if I had the tv on.  I didn't.  I was a new homeschooler, for goodness sakes.  But, I turned on the tv.  And we watched.  I remember scribbling a scavenger hunt for the boys - to go outside and find all of these things before you came back into the house. And, they did.  They remember very little of 9/11/01.  I, like so many people, watched in horror. And watched and watched and watched.  You could not get away from it.  I remember consciously avoiding going online that day and I'm glad I did that.  

The next day, I had no clue what to do.  I knew I could not sit there watching tv all day.  I packed all the boys up and we went to the beach, the same beach mentioned in the post below.  We were the only people there.  Just a few days ago, I found this picture of Andy on the beach on 9/12/01.  I LOVE this picture. It says so much to me and reminds me of so much every time I look at it.  I cannot believe I lost track of it.  Won't happen again. 

Allergy-buster

I'm an idiot - every single season I'm surprised by allergies.  Every, single season I spend a full week thinking I'm getting sick as well as the boys.  And, then, suddenly, it dawns on all of us that it's fall or spring and we're not sick, we're just missing our allergy drugs.  This week was such a week.  I should feel stupider than I do, but I don't so there.

Thursday, we scooped up Bing and headed for the beach.  Ahhhhhh the beautiful, pollen-free beach. It's still really hot here, but you can feel fall in the air.  For instance, the chilly 82 degree water.  (I kid.) The waves were huge and the current was really, really strong, but it was a perfect day at the beach.  

Ian and Tim have Thursday free of classes, so I imagine we'll be heading to the beach on the next few Thursdays before the weather really changes.  We all love having the time with Bing!  I have her trapped in the front seat to listen to me for an hour there and an hour back.  Once we get to the beach, the boys get her trapped in the water and talk and talk and talk. In the end, we're all happy.  And breathing.  And not sleepy!  Yay beach!

This week's ride on the crazy train . . .

It's still only (just) Thursday, but once again, the crazy has invaded my world. (Because, you know, my world is not crazy enough with me in it? If you doubt me, see my previous post.)

Football season has started.  I don't mind A football game. I lose patience with multiple TV's (2 in our case) playing different games and 1-2 of those TV's are re-playing games from the 70's and 80's. (Mike swears it's the equivalent to me re-watching Little House on the Prairie, but he's wrong.) I'm sure all the football announcers are nice in person, but WHY are they allowed to talk? Why do they get paid to talk? They're not the most articulate group of people. Add their voices to Mike and the boys - ummm, no thanks.

But, I'm outnumbered here. I tend to gravitate to the porch or to the garage (if I have laundry) to listen to my audiobook and knit my ugly scarves.  Last night, I was knitting an ugly scarf and listening to a weird book that I still have not decided if I like or not and doing tons of laundry (Scout has become *ahem* leaky since starting the prednisone - so glad we do not have carpet anywhere in the house.  But, I'm going through towels like crazy . . .AND the prednisone is working - Scout is no longer trying to gnaw off her tail or legs, so yay!)

It was about 8:30 pm.  I was coated in bug spray, laundry rolling, curled up in my favorite outside chair and knitting like the yarn-spaz I am. (Honestly, it was 90 degrees at 8:30 and I'm knitting a scarf?????)  Scout and Cally usually follow me so they were at my feet, enjoying the story as it unfolded.  Suddenly, they were both up barking and wagging their tails furiously.  (Yes, it does make me feel safe.) 

A family of five - mom, dad, girl, boy and dog - were taking a walk through the neighborhood. I've never seen them before, but they were friendly as I explained that our dogs were okay and the electric fence would keep them in our yard. I like to think of it as my "Move along, 'friends,'" speech. However, I was thwarted by the little boy who asked about the fence and I explained to him how it was underground and that the dogs' collars gave them a warning beep and that they were not hurt by the fence. I also explained how it was mean to tease them from the other side of the fence. 

The mom (who reminds me of someone well-known, but I cannot for my life figure out who) asked if she could step inside the "fence" to pet Scout as Scout reminded her of a dog she had when she was growing up.  I said sure and called Scout and asked Scout to sit.  Scout is amenable to attention.  Honestly, this took only 30 seconds.  I turned around to tell the mom that Scout was there and the mom was gone.  Oh wait.  No she wasn't.  She was splayed across my driveway semi-shouting at me "I know how to do this."  

"Do what?" Was the first thought that passed through my mind.  "Why is this woman sprawled in my filthy driveway?" was my next thought.  Scout was looking at me, mirroring my thoughts.  Scout does not suffer fools.  Cally, noting the woman in our driveway (mind you, the rest of her family had continued walking) and ran over and started licking her face.  Scout wandered over, you know, like an older sibling does when his little brother finds his "FAVORITE" Happy Meal toy that he hasn't played with in five years????  

Meanwhile . . . this woman is still flopped in my driveway, talking to my dogs.  Honestly, I was just out to do some laundry and knit and avoid football.  I like knowing my neighbors and I don't want anyone to be afraid of our dogs, but this seemed above and beyond!!!! WhyTheFace??? In my head this all went on for at least twenty minutes, but it was probably more like 5 minutes - my dogs are smart, but they don't have HUGE attention spans, even for strange women rolling around our driveway.  

Finally, the woman's husband and kids rounded back and told her they were going home. She hopped up.  She thanked me for allowing my dogs to bless her evening. I'm an idiot, I said, "Sure, anytime."  Really, I said that.  I'm glad she left happy, but really???? This woman had a perfectly lovely dog that was part of her own family. But, no, I said "Sure, anytime."  Do they all have to come to me? How do they find me?

As soon as the family left, Tim, Ian and Andy were outside asking me about them.  I just stared at them.  "You saw all of that and left me out here on my own?"  They were laughing too hard to respond.  Finally, Tim said, "They come for you, Mom, not us."  Gah.  I'm afraid to do laundry now.

So there, go on with your day appreciating the normal.  ;)

What's old is new again . . .

Work with me here . . . if you are a mother of older boys, you know how it goes.  If you have younger boys consider yourself warned.  If you don't have boys or a husband, well, this is an eye-opener, I guess.  So, let's go with you being the mom of boys.  You deal with grossness from the minute they're born - baby girls never pee in your face (or that's the rumor).  You get through potty training as best you can (always wallpaper AFTER potty training, trust me).  And then, they're just gross and dirty and kind of gross.  But, they're still little and cute and once they're asleep you pretty much forgive them the bad aim. 

And, then, one day you wake up and your little boy is as tall as you.  The child who once begged to do an extra math or to be allowed to make his own lunch is alternately surly, weepy, snarky and that's in just one head spin. They start eating everything in your house.  Their shoes become like actual pieces of furniture.  In short, they grow up.  But, you're okay with it because you still get glimpses of the little boy you know.  (It's okay, that little boy is still in there.) 

Suddenly, it's time for your folks or the inlaws to visit.  If, like us, you are lucky enough to have two bathrooms (meaning you don't share with the kids) you panic.  Sure, the kids have been cleaning it lately and they do a decent job.  BUT, they do not do a mother-in-law-worthy cleaning.  So, you get the rubber gloves, the bucket of bleach and ammonia (kidding - sort of) and get to work.  you get to the shower.  You reach to move the bar of soap and AACKKKK - what is stuck in that soap????  Why is that in your house???  You hurl the soap into the trash bag you dragged into the bathroom with you.  By the time your heart rate slows down, you start to realize . . . that soap was sprinkled with pubic hair!  And then your heart rate speeds up again and you crawl out to the safely clean floor in the hall and prostrate yourself and scream "NOOOOOOO." 

But, it's true.  Why do you think body washes, even if they smell awful, are so popular???  It's one of those unspoken mom things.  The older boys know my feeling about "pubes" in the soap and it's not been a problem.  Andy isn't quite there yet.  So imagine my joy and delight when I was mopping today and I kept finding random, oogy dark hairs?  Gah!  

So, Cally doesn't shed like a normal dog, she just leaves random stray hairs around the house.  I dunno, I kind of prefer dog hair tumbleweeds.  Yep.  That was the whole point of this post. 

 Just nod and smile and don't look me directly in the eye.

I've been remiss . . .

Fridays are "Cooking with Andy and Alton Brown Fridays" from now on.  I love this part of homeschooling 6th grade.  The boys get an awesome dose of real science AND learn how to cook.  Now that I have my new little camera, I can document the experience.  

Pre-camera, Andy made seared duck breasts, baked potatoes and sauteed green beans for me and his godmother (and eventually his brothers as they trickled home).  Pretty impressive.  Last weekend, Andy learned from Alton and Mike how to grill a perfect strip steak. It was perfect.

This week, as an addendum to the grilling, Andy learned to broil.  He chose Alton Brown's recipe called "Get Breakfast."  No pictures this week, but I have to say, broiled hash browns mixed with spinach later topped by salsa, cheese and broiled eggs????  Keeper.  

Next Friday (promise with pictures!) we're roasting something . . .

19 years ago just about now . . .

I was waking up from general anesthesia to wish my mom a Happy Birthday and introduce her to her first grandson (then  I threw up and they wheeled me away). Sunday was Danny's birthday, he turned 19.  Monday is my mom's birthday.  She's older than 19. This was the very first year Danny was away for his birthday.  I talked to him.  I talked to my mom.  My mom talked to Dan.  We all survived.  I'm thinking the doctor that delivered Dan was about my age when he delivered him. Wonder how many grandkids he has now? Funny how slow days can seem in your life, but how quick the years go, huh? 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Dan and Bing!!!!!!

Fun at the grocery store!!

Andy and I had to run some errands this afternoon.  One was a quick trip to the grocery store.  As we were walking into the store, we found ourselves behind a mom with three little kids and the youngest (4-5?) was pitching a fit and wailing as they walked into the store.  Having been-there-done-that, I telepathically sent sympathies to the mom and headed in the opposite direction.  

We were in the frozen food section in search of a box o'spinach and some hash browns.  I was standing next to a woman who was about my mom's age. She and I were discussing frozen potatoes.  When, guess who came down the aisle?  Yep.  Sad, crying boy and his family.  The older woman and I exchanged "poor puppy" glances as they passed.  But, as soon as they passed, the older woman tugged on my arm.  "Do you speak Spanish?"  I shook my head no.  She burst out laughing.  "I finally figured out what that little boy has been whining the whole time he's been in the store, "You just don't love me enough, Mom."  We both laughed really hard.  We had been sympathetic to the little boy with the mean mom until that moment.  LOLOL - Nice to have a translator when I needed one.

After we checked out, Andy and I were trying to figure out where we'd parked.  (Okay, I was trying to figure out where the car was, Andy was just messing with me.)  As we were standing there with me thinking out loud (gah -- what am I going to be doing in 20 years?), I noticed an old woman pushing a woman who was obviously her daughter in a wheel chair headed straight for us.  The woman grabbed my arm and stared at me. I stared back.  I thought she needed help or something.  Finally, she asked "Are those your real eyes?" Not knowing about fake eyes, I kind of shouted "YES, THEY ARE."  She turned to her daughter and said "Dayum they really ARE that blue." Then she turned back to me, lightly smacked my cheek and told me I should be in commercials and headed on her way.  I was surprised she hadn't noticed Andy, whose eyes are FAR bluer than anyone I've ever met until I turned around and saw Andy studiously tying his shoes.  Once again, we have odd encounters in public.  I guess it's a step up we weren't at WalMart, huh?

(That is NOT my eye, but it's blue.)

Do not be deceived by the cute.

Cally recently celebrated her 1st birthday (with some cheese and pepperoni).  We've had her now for five months (I think).  She's the most graceful, enthusiastic, clumsy, unladylike dog I've ever known.  I just love her.  Scout, poor old Scout, is decidedly in the "I-hate-her camp."  But, Cally definitely found the right home here.  

She LOVES rain. You know it's going to rain because about 15 minutes ahead of a storm she'll start racing all over the place and "throwing" toys at us.  She'll play fetch, but she won't bring anything back to you.  Instead she races around with whatever she's fetched and, if she still feels like playing, she'll come back to you and hurl the bone, ball, branch at you.  It's so un-Scout-like. Scout is a play-by-the-rules kind of girl.

Scout just glares at me and flops over for a new nap whenever this happens.  Poor Scout.  Still, I think she secretly likes Cally - all the growling is for show.  

Ian caught this picture of Cally today in a lunch-time thunderstorm.  I was not keen on adding a dog to the family, but I'm really glad we did.  

Everyone Loves Leo! UPDATE 9/6/11

9/6/11: 

Leo has been discharged and is headed *HOME*!!! He'll have the PICC line in, for antibiotics over the next three weeks, but he'll be home and his family will be together! Thanks for your prayers and good thoughts!!

9/5/11: From Andie!
Feeling well enough to act silly before bed. :-) (Yay Leo.  Please keep praying!  They still have a long way to go. - from me)

The worst of the med reaction seems to have passed. He's still a bit itchy and tires easily, but otherwise feels okay. He had another med (not an antibiotic) reintroduced and seems to be tolerating it well, though I'm hesitant to say that until... oh, when he's FINISHED WITH IT. Tomorrow he gets a break, but Friday we're testing another antibiotic to which he may be allergic. But that's Friday, and I don't have room for Friday in my head yet.

He was having trouble with his PICC line, so that had to be pulled today. He may need that replaced in the future depending on which med he ends up taking, but for now, he's on oral meds and unhooked from things. He is much more comfortable.

He got to spend time with Eleanor today, which was good for both of them. (Eleanor went down to the playroom to do a craft and ended up meeting Miss Virginia, who colored a picture with her and gave her a teddy bear. Eleanor really loved the crown, so maybe when all this is over we'll get her into pageants. *snort*)

I hesitate to say it, because so much has changed so often and so completely, but barring any more complications it looks like we'll be home next week sometime, one way (or med) or another. Then we get down to the business of wiping out some Lyme meningitis and cleaning up and healing some cranial nerves. I'm sure the kid will be grateful to stop seeing two of me.

His third "fifteen more minutes" of reading are nearly up, so I'm going to tuck him in. Thank you all for your support and prayers and help.

Please keep praying, thinking good thoughts, dancing nekkid (though we all know you just like any excuse to do that!) and whatever else.  Leo has a long way to go but the kid is a trooper! Look at how far he's come.  (Isn't the picture awesome?  My friend Deb made it in honor of Leo's favorite book!)