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Backstory: Last week I found a hurt pigeon on the street. I brought down water and food, but he wasn’t moving so I put him in a box, took him upstairs and called New York City Pigeon Rescue. Because his leg appeared broken they told me to call the Wild Bird Fund. The Wild Bird Fund said they’d set his leg, but their hospital was full so I’d have to take him home afterwards. I panicked—feeding him was hard and I have two cats—but agreed. Part of me was glad, I was already attached to the little thing. But he turned out to also have a broken wing so they took him in order to manage his pain and food. I miss him, but I was especially glad to hear that they could manage his pain, poor little guy.

Last night they emailed me: Your little one is looking good. He is standing pretty well on the leg with the recent fracture of the femur. He’s also moving his wings pretty well. But I will not be testing the mend until more time has past. Though I refer to the bird as he, I do not know its sex as yet.

So I’m happy. It looks like he’s going to be okay, and will grow up to annoy New Yorkers who have a thing about pigeons (he’s only 14 weeks old I was told).

I’m walking to the grocery store and all the streets are blocked off, as if for a parade. What holiday is it, I’m thinking when I remember President Obama is in town. After I’m done shopping I daydream about possibly getting a shot of the President as he passes through my neighborhood when I walk straight into a movie shoot. And Alexander Skarsgard (not literally, alas, damnit).

He looked right into my eyes but his eyes were so inhumanly, glittery light gray-blue I froze and missed the shot. I did get this one. Lucky girl! Look at this guy. I mean, seriously?

The Wild Bird Fund told me to call this week about my bird except they’re not returning my calls. I expect it’s bad news, but I wish they would just tell me.

Someone was feeding the birds in this park at Bleecker and 7th Avenue. Her caretaker came at me saying “No senora” and other things I couldn’t understand. I gathered she didn’t want me taking a picture of the woman feeding the birds, so I edited her out. But for the record, in the picture it looks like the woman was smiling at me. Maybe she recognized a fellow bird lover.

Because yesterday did! Uh-oh. I just went to take a shower and there’s no hot water. Not an auspicious beginning. Sorry everyone I meet today.

When people complain about blogs and tweets and say things like “who cares about all the minutia of someone’s daily life,” they’re talking about posts like this one, I’m afraid. Well, here’s more minutia: I plan to find and listen to the pieces that my choral society is going to sing at our holiday concert.

Giovanni Gabrieli: Jubilate Deo
Palestrina: Missa ‘Ascendo ad Patrem’ (Kyrie and Gloria)
William Billings: The Shepherd’s Carol (Shiloh)
Leonard Bernstein: Missa Brevis
Arvo Part: Magnificat
Randall Thompson: The Peaceable Kingdom
Carols with organ

I’m familiar with and love The Peaceable Kingdom. Excited about the Palestrina! Palestrina never sucks.

A fire alarm went off while I was at the NYU Dental School yesterday. No fire in the end though. After waiting a couple of hours I was told that they couldn’t do the work I needed on my tooth and to go elsewhere.

Stupid world. The UK, the financial markets. Ugh, ugh, ugh. It’s a “don’t turn on the news” day. By the way, speaking of “it’s a madhouse,” did I mention I loved Rise of the Planet of the Apes? I quite enjoyed it. Movies instead of news, I say!

My friend Chris sent me this stunning, sparkling picture of a butterfly. I imagine she took it in her garden. I woke up and opened my email while drinking my morning coffee and saw this. A very nice way to start the day so I’m passing it on to you.