I learned today that Trader Joe's has stopped making their Honeybush tea.

Don't they realize that Harley has to drink some of this almost every day?

Don't they know that he will start eating PEOPLE if he doesn't get his tea?!?!?!

Update
I wrote to Trader Joe's and asked them about their Honeybush tea. I pointed them to this blog entry, which — you may have noticed — gives the impression that I might get EATEN if Harley doesn't get his tea. Marci replied with the following:

Dear Pamela and Harley,

Thanks for contacting us with your question. We have discontinued that product in our stores due to slow sales. Because our stores have such limited space, if an item does not meet a minimum sales volume, we will discontinue it in order to bring in something we think will sell better. I will pass your comments on to our buyers for consideration. From time to time, if there is enough outcry to bring back a discontinued item and we are able to do so, we will give it another run.

So what do you say? Maybe if all four of my regular readers send them a note about their Honeybush tea, they'll start selling it again. And if they do, I'll buy Harley a whole case!

The other day, after Szechwan (Pepper) died, Mam Adar wrote, "I hope there can be more Finsters for you soon." But I'm afraid that won't happen.

There are two issues related to quarantine. The first I've mentioned: the need for separate air spaces. I don't have that here, and although we're thinking about moving, that isn't likely to happen soon, and separate air spaces aren't easy to find. Another option would be finding a friend who doesn't have birds, who would be willing to take care of new additions to Finster Land for a month or two for me. Any takers?

The other issue has to do with the size of a bird, and how big they have to be to easily get blood work done. Finsters aren't big enough to get blood work done — which means that you never really know what's wrong with them. Peanut was only barely big enough to get a small amount of blood taken, for a specific test rather than a full work up — and even that small amount was very hard on him. Some people feel that if you can't ever really know the health of your "littles," it isn't a good idea to keep them in the same space as "bigs."

Obviously, everybody has different levels of comfort with a risk like this. Harley is my first "big." But having shared my kitchen with Finsters for ten years or so (or more?), I know that not knowing what's wrong can be a frustrating problem. And I wonder if it would be fair to Harley to bring new "littles" into his home, when they represent an unknown.

The first issue is probably the most crucial, and I haven't solved it. And I haven't decided what I think about the second issue. I've lived with "littles" for years, and so has Harley, but just at the moment I'm not interested in risk.

On the other hand, I really don't want to think about Life Without Finsters.

On a related note, it seems that Szechwan (Pepper) really was the one, ornery bird that kicked Oolong out of the communal nest box at night. So now she gets to sleep with Ginger and Cinnamon, which is really nice. During the day, the three of them spend a lot of time sitting together on a perch, or in the configuration depicted in the photograph.

(You've noticed, I'm sure, that this photo isn't very good. Welcome to grey, winter weather in Michigan. And next weekend, we'll wrap the Finsterium in clear plastic, which will make it even harder to take good pictures of the Finsters. Oh well. You have also noticed, I'm sure, that Oolong doesn't think the plastic nest box is Evil at all!)

We have many things to be thankful for this year. One of the big ones is that we have Harley in our lives. And on our table.

That light green plate was Harley's, although to be fair we never really expected him to either stay on his perch or stay interested in his own plate. I don't think we've ever invited him onto our table like this before, since we usually eat on the couch, but really — who could resist all those interesting things?

Harley's favorites were corn, bacon (!) and possibly beans from the succotash, pomegranate and a nibble of feta cheese from the salad, mashed potato, almonds from the green beans, pecans from the brussels sprouts, and possibly the brussels sprouts themselves. I can't say he tried everything, but apparently he ate quite a bit: he sat on his perch and dozed for an hour after dinner.

Now he's chatting, laughing and making "kiss" noises on his perch. Lately he's been saying "hello," "you're so funny," "hey!," "oh!," "special," and "what are you doing." Earlier today he said "hello pretty boy."

I hope Harley is glad he's here.

When Harley lived in his former home, he pretty consistently weighed 285 grams. Since he's moved in with us, he's pretty consistently weighed 295 grams. My vet wasn't concerned about the weight gain — in fact she was pleased that he hadn't lost weight when he moved to a new home. But this morning, he only weighed 276 grams. I don't remember exactly when I weighed him last, but it might have been two weeks ago, and that seems like a lot to lose in two weeks.

I think I've mentioned that sometimes it seems like Harley doesn't eat much. I give him a lot of food — food that the Finsters eat, so I know it's food — but he ignores a lot of it. Mind you, he eats food, but it's hard to know exactly what he's eating, or exactly where his calories come from, or if he's eating too many "snacks," or too much apple, or if he's drinking too much carrot, or if Bruce's inherent weak constitution means that Harley eats more cheese than he should.

So when I read "276" on the scale this morning, I got a little concerned, and I made the mistake of mentioning it to Bruce. I pointed out that Harley was being a little fussy, and that I couldn't get a steady reading on the scale, but no. Bruce glommed on to "weight loss" and immediately started giving Harley more snacks.

Despite the fact that I warned Bruce not to try to get Harley to gain ten grams in a day, Bruce just got a little glint in his eye. By lunch time Harley weighed 296 grams, and after dinner he weighed 305 grams.

Well, it was Macaroni And Cheese night. But still, I don't think we need to worry about Harley losing too much weight.

Update: I weighed Harley the next morning — that is, November 19th — after his big, morning poop, but before he'd managed to climb down onto the counter to eat too much breakfast, and he was down to 297 grams. We'll call that "fine" and quietly keep Bruce away from Mr. Scale.

Szechwan (Pepper) died today. I'd been watching him for a day or two, thinking he was sleeping a lot in his nest box. And this evening, he never came out.

I'll miss his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, so long, and full of creaks and whistles. I'll miss his naked little head, and how I had to trim just his back toenails sometimes, and how he'd snuggle up with Oolong during the day, but then kick her out of the nest box at night. Well, maybe not that last one so much, but still — you've gotta admire a creature that weighs less than the average human nose who has such a strong opinion about things.

Bruce says "It sure was fun when we had 20 little birds in the Finsterium." Well, to be honest 20 was too many, at least since some of them were fiesty Zebra finches. But 20 was better than three.

R.I.P. Szechwan (Pepper), ? — November 11, 2007.

Harley loves pomegranate.

Unlike many foods, which he appears to enjoy on first bite but then ignores completely — like pumpkin, polenta, sweet potato, and tofu, to name four — he always eats this.

(I'm sure Harley's former Mom thinks his current eating habits are strange. I don't know how to respond to this. Frankly, I think Harley's current eating habits are strange, too. As far as I can tell, he subsists on apple, toast, carrots, pomegranate, peas, peanuts, almonds, cheese, the couch, love, and air. I'm pretty sure that Peanut, who was one-tenth Harley's size, ate more than he does. But I guess that's a different story.)

Like me, Harley squishes the fruit pips in his mouth to drink them, and then spits the seeds out. He's much more willing to put up with the bother of a pomegranate than I am.

(And clearly, I am much more willing to put up with dirty kitchen appliances than most people. Would somebody please clean that toaster oven?!?)