Yesterday morning, I was up early, and there was a lot of bird activity outside over the pool.  As you all may, or may not know, I have severe Ornithophobia, and I am glad to say that when I looked that up on Wikipedia, I share the same irrational fear of birds with Ingmar Bergman and Scarlett Johansson.  Also an Irish singer, who I don’t know, so won’t list here.  Anyway, back to the story.  I was sitting, minding my own business, when a bird flew into the window and was laying near the sliding door, just near one of the plants in the yard.  It looked like it was down for the count, and I thought I was going to have to put David to work, but thought I would wait.  They have in the past recovered, but this one hit pretty hard.  I went out for a run, and the whole way, I was just hoping that when I got home, the bird would have flown away.

I got home, and, alas, the bird was still there.  It seemed to be alive, which was reassuring and frightening all at the same time.  I mentioned to David that I thought that him might have to act as mortician to another dead bird, and he seemed resigned.  I then got up and walked to the door.  As I was about to slide it open, the bird hopped up, shook its head and took off.  It was a little shaky, but it made it up onto the roof, and hopefully finished recuperating there.  Resilience is a marvelous thing, no?

Last night we also went to what is becoming one of our favorite restaurants in the valley, Catalan.  Very nice space and the food is excellent.  We ordered a variety of small plates, and had a very nice time.  On the drive home the sliver of the moon was spectacular.  After eating so well, this morning I decided to start making curry pastes to keep me entertained and occupied.  I went out and got a mortar and pestle and the spices I need.  The kitchen, and well the whole house, smells lovely!