Since Humphrey’s death I haven’t had a self-indulgent blog about her, mainly because I understand how little she meant to anyone who wasn’t me or Michele. Even the people that liked her and appreciated her company couldn’t understand how important she was to us. We learned a lot from her during her short time with us and I know that she’ll be one of the lives I think about on my deathbed. Michele and I both regularly feel dread rushes of pain when, during our daily lives, we are reminded of her.
Tonight Michele took me to a parrot rescue just south of Philly. We went there because Michele and the owner of the rescue had covertly planned that I should fall in love with a Princess of Wales parakeet that they were looking after. Her name is Princess Leia…obviously. And obviously I loved her. If our house comes together, which is looking more and more like a “when”, then she together with a beautiful couple of eclectuses will be joining us there.
In my sad little dream world we will have a housewarming party that would involve my parents, my sister, Marshall, everyone in the UK fatherland that we know (you’re all invited), together with everyone over here that we know. That would make me very happy indeed…even if you couldn’t make it for reasons of common sense.
