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9 PM Another down day: fever again and Jimmy feels miserable. It's good that he's sleeping a lot. I just counted seven different bags of intravenous fluids he's getting right now, including four kinds of antibiotics and two big bags of platelets. It's going to be a long night.
I was looking out the window just before sunset, at a magnolia with so many blossoms it looked in the distance like a Christmas tree loaded down with big white ornaments. Last month in Valdosta, Jimmy and I had remarked to each other about what an exceptionally fragrant spring it has been: the ligustrum and the magnolias, the gardenias and the jasmine and the tea olive were heavenly. We had wondered if maybe the drought had concentrated the smells and made them more potent, or if it was just our heightened perception of things. We tend these days not to take too much for granted.
I was looking out the window just before sunset, at a magnolia with so many blossoms it looked in the distance like a Christmas tree loaded down with big white ornaments. Last month in Valdosta, Jimmy and I had remarked to each other about what an exceptionally fragrant spring it has been: the ligustrum and the magnolias, the gardenias and the jasmine and the tea olive were heavenly. We had wondered if maybe the drought had concentrated the smells and made them more potent, or if it was just our heightened perception of things. We tend these days not to take too much for granted.
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