The hits just keep on coming. Jazz is still in the hospital, and his recovery has been very slow. We are all very impatient to have him healthy and back home. On Wednesday, they inserted a feeding tube to help him get the nutrition he needs in order to build up his strength. He’s currently groggy and lethargic from the drugs he is on, but we are seeing small improvements we like to count as victories. Over all, he is coming along.
Yesterday, “He” and “She” were concerned to find Flirt and Barny exhibiting some of the symptoms Jazz was showing a little over a week ago, so they were loaded into the car and taken for a ride to see Dr. M. After looking them over and giving them some medication, Dr. M. said Barny could come back home, but Flirt would need to stay for some additional testing and treatment. Poor Barny gets so agitated when she has to leave the house. I’m glad she got to come home the same day. Actually, Barny recovered from the trauma quite well as proved by the fact that while She was sitting in her recliner last night, Barny jumped up to join her. A visit with Flirt late yesterday afternoon showed she was actually feeling fairly good. She has a good appetite, and is pretty much her usual self.
On a happier note, it is coming up on a time of year that He looks forward to for one big reason. Scuppernongs. Now, if you are from somewhere other than the Southern United States, you may not be familiar with these distinct tasting grape variants. He learned to love them, as a child, through his Grandfather, who grew big plump scuppernongs and muscadines. Paw had a beautiful arbor that was covered with vines which, in September, would be weighed down with the shiny, sweet fruit. This time every year, He starts anticipating the first crop of the season. Sadly, Paw is no longer around, and neither is his arbor, but the unique taste of the juicy scups always brings to mind fond memories of him.
The word scuppernong has been morphed into many variations through the years. As a child, She knew them as “scuplins”. They may also be referred to as “scupnins”, or “muskydimes”. Whatever they are called, they have been an integral part of many happy southern childhoods.
My favorite part of his eating scuppernongs is when He happens to drop one and we get to bat it around the house like a juicy little rubber ball! I sure hope Jazz and Flirt come home soon, so they can play that game, too!