I was up late last night, which was okay because I figured I could sleep late Saturday morning. Except, of course, that I forgot that Nicholas does not believe any creature should sleep once the first molecule of sunlight appears.

So, in response to continual chirping and calling and demands to get the cage covers off, I drug myself out of bed and took off the cage covers. Congratulated everyone on being all nice and awake. I watched the Bobbsey Twins scamper around their cage, then Flash decided it would be a good time to masturbate. Which he did, while Nicholas tried to preen him. Flash likes to hold onto one of Nicholas's toys, a long rubbery bright pink spiraly thing, when he masturbates -- only it frequently slips out of his foot so he has to stop, grab the toy, readjust himself, and start over.

This proves that no life is without its complications.

Then I opened the blinds to see 2 finches and 2 female Cardinals at the bird feeder, and a never-before-seen-by-me bird at the suet cake. It had vivid sharp stripes of black and white, the tip of its head had a splash of red, and its breast was gray.

(Sidebar: If you aren't already a member of Cornell's Project Feeder Watch, do give it some thought. People all over the US note the birds at their feeders on specific days, which provides lots of data on migration patterns, numbers of birds, and other scientific stuff. Costs $15 a year and is fun to do. It runs from mid-November to April, but you only have to pick out a two-week period that's convenient for you. Here's the link. And no, they don't fuss at you if you forget.)

Back to my post -- The bird feeder swings in the air, and as I watched, several more birds flew down to feast. Except this was not acceptable to the birds already there, so there ensued a no-nonsense air battle whereupon everyone flew away.

I guess the birds could see my reflection in the window because they wouldn't stay around long enough for me to get group pictures or do a mini movie. This picture was taken through the screen and glass, and you can't see it but the feeder hangs from a tree branch.

Sugar Franklin always loved watching this view -- there are always seeds on the ground for the ground feeders and I use safflower seed in the feeder because the bigger birds (crows, starlings) aren't interested in safflower seeds. To the left of the neighbor's house and the feeder you can see part of the neighbor's back yard and out over into the street. She always had something interesting to keep track of when her slave wasn't home to provide scritches and treats.

I am most assuredly getting better. It's still strange to speak of her in the past tense, but I can speak of her now without bursting into tears and that's a sure sign of improvement.

Well, it's Saturday and I have a long, long list of things to get done today. God knows my parrots won't help with any of it . . . .

Little Flash and Nicholas showcased tonight!

Let's see -- Sugar Franklin acted ever so slightly distressed on Saturday; tail bobbing just a tiny bit, sleeping a lot. She'd laid an egg on Tuesday, so I knew there was another one on the way despite my very best lectures to her. The vet's office closes at noon on Saturday so I rushed her in, whereupon she perked up enough to make a liar out of me. She was about 5 grams heavier than usual, and the vet felt the mass without a shell. That one only cost me $55, but I'm made of money, you know.

She laid a perfect egg on Sunday morning, whereupon she's been her usual feisty aggravating self.

Work has been quiet this week; my supervisor is on vacation. Thank you, God.

The weather is typical for us this time of year. Seventy degrees one day, snow the next. It rained most of last weekend and was warm this week, but they're warning us of snow for the weekend,

I've been having all kinds of epiphanies (I don't think that's spelled right) related to my piano lessons. My self-talk is not good, and I'm way too hard on myself and get frustrated because I can't "do it right," which leads to more negative self-talk, which leads to more frustration and the growth of nine extra fingers, none of which will strike the right key.

O is going to Europe for three weeks, and she gave me three weeks' worth of homework. Mostly scales, which I hate, but these are supposed to help me learn to play with hands in one position and then lift my hands to move to another position. This sounds so easy I imagine my two readers are lifting their eyebrows, but believe me it is incredibly difficult to move and get your fingers all arranged in a completely different position within the space of a quarter note. Even though she always insists I go as slow as I need to, but still.

Last week's lesson included a song in which I was to play stacco (short, clipped notes) with my left hand while playing legato (smooth and connected) with my right. At the same time. I simply could not and still can't do it. O and I had a really bad lesson this week because of it, but we worked it out.

I bought a metronome a couple of weeks ago. I'd never seen one other than on TV before. It's a little electronic, digital thing that will beep from 40 beats a minute to over 200 beats a minute. I tend to stay around 64 to 68. It will do all manner of other things but I have no clue what they are or what good they'd do me. Anyway, it sort of made me feel like a real musician. Or at least a reasonable facsimile of one.