Oh, BARF!

Literally. On Tuesday, I told you the pukies had arrived using Feisty as a host. She threw up one more time that day. I held my breath for the next couple of days waiting for the rest of us to start puking, or otherwise. By Thursday evening, nothing had happened. I was feeling pretty confident that my obsessive sterilizing and cleaning on Tuesday evening had warded of the germ. But Murphy's Law got to me. Start feeling too confident about something, or that you've escaped something and it's sure enough to backfire on you. And it did. Yesterday morning I woke up throwing up and spent the entire day laying in my bed in the fetal position. By last evening, Feisty was puking again. I'm not going to say that no one else has started puking because Murphy will curse me again.

Feisty made it through the night with no more vomit and while I have no appetite yet to speak of, at least I can stand upright without feeling like my insides are trying to work their way to my outside.

On the bright side? (If there is a bright side to the evil puke monster)....I got through half of the first Harry Potter book yesterday. And yes....you all were right. I'm hooked. Those Dursley's make me so mad. And I think I know who Professor Snape really is. Don't tell me if I'm wrong, though. Between sleeping, I was reading. I suppose today since I can stand upright, I should try to get something done in this pit I call a house.

Anakin was beyond thrilled to see me reading H.P., and a little shocked I believe. He's already read the first one, so I'm trying to catch up to him. He keeps asking me where I am in the book, like every five minutes. I think this is a good thing for he and I.

It's raining here today. I love it. The grass is getting green. After praise band practice, I would love nothing more than to hunker down under a blanket and find out what's going to happen at Hogwarts next.

Happy Saturday.