And a Partridge on the Bird Feeder

I am sick.

UGH.

I woke up early Thursday morning with a painful sore throat and a clogged head, and had to stay home from work, which meant I missed the department holiday party. (I guess maybe not such a bad thing, but still.) I went in yesterday and banged out everything that absolutely had to be done and then skedaddled at two. I have canceled all my weekend plans, including seeing this morning's live Hi-Def broadcast of the Metropolitan Opera's matinee performance of Gounod's Romeo et Juliette (instead I'm listening to it on the radio) with Anna Netrebko, Roberto Alagna, Nathan Gunn, and Placido Domingo in the pit (yes, he conducts, too). One of the smaller roles is being taken by someone I went to school with, one of those singers who had an unbelievable instrument but was a complete putz of a person. Argh. I'm also missing a parishioner's funeral and a concert I was supposed to attend with new friends. Rats.

It hasn't been all bad, though. I've been running around like an administrative assistant with his head cut off for the last many weeks, and so some enforced laziness has been something of a treat. I've been spending some time lying on the couch admiring the tree and reading, something I haven't done in forever. The cats seem happy to have me home, and so usually as soon as I get on the couch, I've got Starbuck curled up on my chest and Rocky in my lap. Of course since I'm also drinking gallons of fluids right now, they give me lots of lip when I have to get up to pee. Still, it's nice to be loved. Plus, I was wondering when I'd have time to do Christmas cards.

[OOOOF...Netrebko is off to a rough start. She just completely cracked her opening cadenza. Easy, girl. It's not Isolde.]

Earlier in the year I was regularly visited by a variety of cute little finches who came to hang out at my bird feeder. Alas, I guess they migrated and my feeder had been so long neglected that I had to throw it out; the seeds sprouted and I couldn't get the thing clean.

This morning, as I was reading The New York Times and having my coffee, I was distracted by a familiar noise: Rocky's whining and Starbuck's squawking that indicates birds are around. I went to the window to have a look: goodness me, it was a regular aviary out there. Ravens, grackles, bluejays, starlings, robins, juncos, hummingbirds and a whole gaggle of red-winged blackbirds.

Anyway, if anyone needs me, I'll be on the couch with my book.