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In the family way

First: apropos the last post, in which I vowed to let you know of the ‘remarkable’ event that was s’posed to happen on Supernovarockstar last night [which had been hinted at on this website, among others]… well I watched and watched and watched real carefully… and nothing happened. The only vaguely remarkable thing was that old Magni wore a white suit and said he’d never been dressed up that much in his life [although methinks he doth lie – surely a nice Icelandic boy like him was made to put on a confirmation suit and get confirmed when he was 13?] Other than that – nada.

Sadly, Magni’s performance was also unremarkable – he did an okay job singing Starman [David Bowie] but it was certainly nothing to, er, write home about. Which is probably why he landed in the lowest three… although his track record and ‘bounce-back’ performance [broadcast tonight up here on the ice cube*] ensured that he wasn’t sent packing and is still in the running.

Namely that EPI and I are proud to announce that we have become grandparents. Yes it’s true:

Try to ignore the fact that our grand… er, egg, looks like a ball that is about to hit old Eiður Smári Guðjohnsen in the head. Or that the photo is a little blurry, because I had to get the camera out quick before Polly took my hand off at the wrist in a single bite. Look instead at the delicate perfection that yesterday was ejected from the Polly metabolism and which she is currently prepared to kill for:

Looks pretty mean, doesn’t she? The saddest thing, of course, is that Polly still harbours the illusion that if she guards her egg fiercely enough and gives it lots of love and warm attention, it will eventually produce a little baby Polly. Which we, the all-knowing humans, know it will not, on account of the rather unfortunate absence of a male cockatiel.

It’s now almost three years since Polly outed herself as a girl by producing her first clutch of eggs. Since then there have been times when preventing another round of egg laying has been a full-time job – that’s how obsessed and determined our Polly has been to propagate the species. [I know, sadsadsad…]. Three days ago, when Polly looked decidedly under the weather and spent almost the entire day snoozing, I knew something was imminent [there had been other signs, as well]. That night, AAH was walking past Polly’s covered cage ‘late in the evening’ [read: in the middle of the night] holding her duvet, and accidentally bumped it. There was the predictable fluttering of wings, and the next morning I found a barely-formed egg lying on the cage floor, probably ejected when our Polly was so badly startled. This is thus the second egg of the clutch and I have to say that I hope it is her last [not likely] because producing eggs in this manner takes a severe toll on the little cockatiel metabolism and the last time she barely survived. So you can believe that I shall be risking my life by keeping a close watch on her.

It’s a gorgeous day. Went out for a bike ride earlier along the seashore in brilliant sunshine, but not before biking into town on an errand. I haven’t been to the city centre on a regular weekday in ages and I was startled to see all the tourists… it’s almost got to the point where you’re more likely to hear a foreign language than Icelandic being spoken. [Which is all very good news for our coffers.] Right now it’s 10°C and sunrise this morning was at 05.24 and sundown will be at 21.37. Day getting shorter by the day.

* Did I ever mention that Icelanders refer to Iceland as klakinn, or ‘the ice cube’?