A friend has graciously lent us her beach house, even knowing that Jack is ill. It turns out that there is a linoleum-floored room that he can sleep in, and it is right next to the guest room. It should not go without saying that my friend is supremely generous, and flexible, to a fault.
There are glorious views of the marsh out of the western windows of the house. Glorious. I can see why some artists spend a lifetime painting scenes such as this one. A pattering rain falls, now, just as we were planning to grab the paddles and canoe out to the end of the spit — with Jack. We are doing everything with Jack.
Oh well. As is often the case while at the shore, the excuse to stay inside and read is welcome.
It is hard to fully relax knowing what is going on for Jack. On a positive note, though, he continues to have a hearty appetite and to rest easily, with less panting than before we got here. With the boys on the West Coast and the mess of my own home elsewhere, it has been seamless to make Jack our Number One concern… he and I are sitting together pretty much constantly.
And this is where I add that our house sitter has two German shepherds, each of which ON THEIR OWN, significantly outweighs me. I hope they are not digging up the astilbes like last time.