When you have a patient with lists, you have a patient with migraine.

And here all this time I thought it was OCD.

I did something today I have only done twice before in our 12-year relationship – I called Dan at work and asked him to come home a little early. A blinding migraine developed sometime between lunchtime and naptime, with none of the usual triggers – too much chocolate, red wine, or certain cheeses, or stress – identifiable. The two older boys were trying to be very good but I just could not function. When Dan got home, I crawled into bed with a pillow over my head and a cold pack on my temples and wished for death – or at least sleep. Because I am nursing Terce, I still can’t take any Imitrex but managed to swallow three extra-strength Tylenol and a very strong cup of tea before passing out. And now here I am, at ten-thirty, wide-awake and in that manic post-headache phase. My body hates me. So does my brain.

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Literary snippets:

I started reading Anne Roiphe’s Marriage: A Fine Predicament and suffice it to say that I am pleased I only paid a dollar for it from the clearance table at Half-Price Books. She’s not, in my humble opinion, a particularly adept writer. (Also, I had her confused with Katie Roiphe, of The Morning After: Sex, Fear, and Feminism fame; does anyone know, are they related?)

The cruise ship that fended off pirates made me think of Robert Girardi’s inventive book The Pirate’s Daughter. It also brings to mind one of my favorite non-fiction writers, William Langewiesche, whose piece on modern-day piracy in The Atlantic Monthly I was unable to put down. I now most definitely plan to buy his collection of articles about piracy and the high seas, The Outlaw Sea: A World of Freedom, Chaos, and Crime. (Incidentally, he also wrote an article about the Columbia tragedy, “Columbia’s Last Flight” - see below.)

I want The New Garden Paradise. My admiration for Dominique Browning, editor of House and Garden, is well-documented. I think this will be a Christmas present to myself.

I am finally buying Michael Lee West’s quirky and wonderfully readable Consuming Passions, as I have been called upon to produce some sort of sweet potato dish for Thanksgiving, and no one eats the traditional canned-sweets-with-marshmallow-topping crap anyway, so I am going to make the most delicious sweet potato dish I have ever had, from this book. (There is also a killer chocolate sheet cake recipe; I remember it well because Dan loved it because of its overtones of cinnamon and fudge-like but not-too-sweet frosting.)

Jonathan Harr’s The Last Painting came out October 25 – I must request it from the library.

Runner’s World has a feature article on heroes this month, one of whom is Willie McCool, one of the astronauts who died in the Columbia space shuttle accident. The guy was really – amazing is the wrong word – he was just clearly a stand-up guy. What an inspirational story. He seemed like someone you would be pleased and proud to have in your life.

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Dan and I attended a friend’s 35th birthday party last night. I went to undergrad with Deb but she has since run screaming away from the theatre world (where she was an incredibly successful stage manager), like anyone with any brains, and successfully reinvented herself as a family doctor. She is one of my oldest, and over the past several years become one of my closest, friends.

At her gatherings, I am generally one of very few medical professionals in attendance (Didja like that medical humor? Huh? Didja?); also one of very few Gentiles (I really should learn some rudimentary Hebrew, it would make certain moments at these gatherings much more comfortable for me and then I’d also be able to understand what Deb’s saying when she reprimands her kids…).

Dan almost never goes to my friends’ parties with me (for a variety of reasons, not least of which is because I think most of my friends either annoy or bore him – undeservedly if I may say so, because *I* think my friends are interesting and fun). At any rate, Dan went with me this time – and not only that, but I believe he had a good time. We met a really cool new couple – neither of whom are doctors – and Dan got to stand around and discuss politics with the husband all evening. So he was in his element – not something that happens often to the man who is not even in his element among his family!

I *know* he likes Deb and her husband, but sometimes I think he is uncomfortable around any of my old theatre buddies. Theatre folk are so much more open than many people, and Deb even more so than most. (Dan once remarked that Deb has a look that says, “We’d be having sex RIGHT NOW –except I don’t want to.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that that was more or less the theatre professional’s mantra when I was in school.)

And the birthday cake – from Whole Foods - was chocolate – with raspberry filling. Oh-my-God delicious.

When we arrived at the home of the person hosting the party, she welcomed us and asked us to please remove our shoes. Dan said it was the perfect Larry David moment – he wanted very badly to say, “I think I’ll just keep my shoes on.” I think I might have laughed until I peed myself if he had. But he meekly removed his shoes instead.

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Snippets of another nature:

Sarah Louise has a T-shirt I covet. I do so love librarian humor.



Speaking of, Terce just spit up all over my “Go to hell, I’m reading” El-Jay’s Books T-shirt.


The governor of Nevada should be impeached. Perhaps we are living in Afghanistan, or maybe Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale?

For Gina, who does not give herself nearly enough credit and who I am sure looked lovely in her bridestroll dress:
http://www.uglydress.com/

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I have been eating a lot of these – conventional wisdom says oatmeal boosts breast milk production.

2 cups sugar
¼ cup cocoa
½ cup milk
½ cup butter
1 cup peanut butter
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups oatmeal
1 cup coconut

In a saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar, cocoa, milk, and butter. Stir constantly to keep from burning, bringing the mixture to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in peanut butter and vanilla. When smooth, stir in oats and coconut. Pour into a greased 9x13 pan and let cool. Cut into bars.

Some people think these are too sweet; they are sweet, sort of fudge with stuff in it but not as rich or heavy. A friend I made some for said they took her back to her grade-school cafeteria where cookies like these were a big hit with her and her friends. Food as nostalgia trip. And I have reached the point where I can make them in my sleep -- and pretty much do.

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Crouching Baby, Hidden Dragon