“It's better to have loved and lost than to have to do forty pounds of laundry a week.” - Dr Laurence Peter

I have been flat out with a bit of a stomach bug complicated by one of the worst migraines I have had in months. Spent all of today either sleeping or wishing for death, when I wasn’t vomiting.

I’d arranged to have today off – a free Saturday! Unheard of! – so I could go catch Primo’s double-header hockey game (last games of the season) and then be available to run him to this afternoon science project class I signed him up for a few months ago, held at a local university (that just happens to my alma mater). H and I had symphony tix for tonight – Sibelius’ Fifth, which I was totally psyched for. Plus, I was looking forward to fitting in there somewhere a nice long romp up to the park with Punto il Cane (yes, the dog is staying).

Instead, the boys and H went to hockey and out to brunch, and H took Primo to his class, and then H went to the symphony and came home to walk Punto – all while I slept and tried to keep down some kind of headache medication.

I have had migraines almost all my life, and the typical pattern is that I have several big events to get through, lots of stress to cope with, and I power through whatever needs to be done and then when I finally have some downtime, my brain goes haywire and I wind up with a migraine – vomiting, chills, noise and light sensitivity, the works. Today my brain felt like it was bleeding.

H and I both agree that my brain hates me.

Now I am awake and wired (caffeine and migraine meds) and, even though I am feeling much better, am not quite up to reading or even watching TV – my concentration is shot, and the faint light from my laptop is just barely tolerable.

So I offer you these random musings:

Paula has redone her laundry room. It’s pretty and bright and so cute; she certainly has a knack.

My immediate thoughts, though: 1) As I said in the comments, don’t ever visit my laundry room, where I scoop detergent and pull dryer sheets straight from their boxes. 2) Where, oh, where do you sort your dirty clothes? Am I the only slacker that pulls the laundry out of the chute and then builds piles of dirty clothes, sorted by color, on the basement floor? And then hauls the clean stuff upstairs where it sits, precariously towering on the family room sofa, until I sort it, fold it, and put it away?

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I am really liking Blackbird’s new shower. Those lilttle teeny floor tiles are so charming.
My first thought was how much easier it would be to clean without all the nooks and crannies provided by shower doors (I do like the idea of a teak mat, though, but buy two, dear, so you don’t have to slide the one around. (You asked.))
My second thought was how lovely that bit of greenish wall looks next to the linen-colored tile; the combo is right out of House and Garden (however, Blackbird points out, they are painting the wall a different color. I think I am sad about that, although the present loveliness could just be a result of Bbird’s mad photo skillz).
Of course, my bathroom tile is about fifty years old AND Pepto-Bismol pink, so it could be that anything other than that would entice me.

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Segundo’s fourth birthday is fast approaching. I have all his presents:

a Marc-Andre Fleury Penguins t-shirt (he wanted Brooks Orpik (For that matter, so do I. Yum.) but we couldn’t find one)

a giant Thomas the Tank Engine coloring book and a Cars coloring book (Seg is very into coloring these days, and his fine motor skills are progressing wildly)

and because clearly we do not have nearly enough Thomas trains, Stepney and the museum cars, specifically asked for because of the Thomas-saurus book I brought home from the Famous Rebecca O’Connell’s book signing at Borders last week.

I had to buy something as I had a 10%-off coupon benefiting Primo’s school, and Rebecca sold out of her book Penina Levine is a Hard-Boiled Egg before we got there.
I bought Rebecca’s The Baby Goes Beep for Terzo, and a Matt Christopher hockey book for Primo. I do intend to go back and buy Penina Levine - you should too, even though it is solely Rebecca’s fault that I will be spending tomorrow afternoon at Chuck E Cheese.

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Seg asked for this beauty. There was a feature recently in the local paper about these dolls, and I caught him practically hyperventilating over the pretty blonde doll “with hair like mine, Mama!” Sixty-five bucks is a bit steep, and sadly I don’t think his grandparents will ante up for a doll, but I know I have this cutie around from when I was little, AND I think I still have all her clothes and I KNOW she still has all her hair, unlike poor Mimi, so I think I will unpack her and wash and iron her clothes and give her to him.

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For those of you who wondered: I skipped the mini-reunion of ex-boyfriends et al. I was going to anyway, but the migraine made the decision for me.
Although if Michael Madigan doesn't deserve to be vomited on, I don't know who does.

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Upcoming posts, a fluid list:
Librarians in fiction
Arctic fiction (inspired by The White Darkness)
More bus reading
My Scrabble post – Suse gave me P.
Recent book purchases, and a couple quickie reviews

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And last but not least: I am starving. Not a whole lot appeals though, right at the moment. But how can it be that I don’t have any frozen coconut cake in the house? Who does the goddamn grocery shopping around here?