My mom went up to Michelle's for Thanksgiving (she's not there; Michelle is in New Zealand with her husband), so I've had the place to myself for a bit, which is nice. Depressing to realize I've practically forgotten how to cook. I made a cake, which turned out good, but half the meals I've prepared have been rather pathetic. I blame it more on my mom's inadequate cutlery than my skills.

Anyway, one hope I had was, that the bird would survive my care. It's about 15 years old, by my recollection, my mother claims we got it closer to 20 years ago. In any event, an old bird. Gave me quite a scare earlier in the week, Monday or Tuesday, when I came home and didn't see a bird, but it turns out he was just at the bottom of his cage, where he'd been hanging out recently. So I wasn't alarmed when I got home from taking Tanner for a walk, and saw no bird, but when I went to give it new thistle, I found a dead bird at the bottom of the cage. So I called my mom and told her what happened, and the bird is now lying in state in the garage, in a check box, waiting for my mom to fly in for the funeral. Feel bad for the poor guy, but it's probably for the best, seeing as the life of a caged bird seems incredibly depressing. Not to mention the hygiene issues with keeping a bird in the kitchen. I found the rice cooker quite disgusting when I got it out from the cabinet beneath Big Al's cage (the bird was named after a Nascar star).

So that sucks. I can assure you I will be keeping a very close eye on my Mom's beta for these last 48-hours.