I spent large chunk of my day watching Blondie documentaries on Youtube. Then I figured it's probably time to get off of Youtube and write up my blog post.

01. In the beginning of the week, I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies. It's been a while since I've baked any kind of sweet goodness, and although I used a pre-mixed package of dough, they still came out great. I'm all for baking from scratch, but sometimes it's nice to be lazy. The day after, there wasn't a single cookie left. My house is apparently full of vultures.
02. I spent my days watching Kids In The Hall and sewing up some shirts, which I'm almost done with. Can't wait to post about them.
03. Friday night, my friend and I spent a relaxing time at Witches Brew, this hip cafe in Hempstead, Long Island. It's been a while since we were last there, and apparently they're expanding their menu; they now serve food! Something to remember for next time.
04. I stuck to my usual Witches Brew order: a slice of red velvet cake and a cup of frozen cocoa with cinnamon syrup. Delicious as always.

Here's the sad portion of my post.
My father, being a typical Greek man, loves his meat. That and being cheap resulted in him raising his own poultry. He started raising quails and partridges. Later on added chickens and doves (no eating; they're just there for show).
Anyway, there are no more quails, which leaves the partridges left as food. They lay eggs here and there, and sometimes he decides to gather some. He invested in an incubator, where many partridges have successfully hatched and grown.
The last batch of eggs were not as successful. Out of a batch of 10+, only one hatched. The poor thing was definitely lonely. My dad keeps the newborns in a large box with bedding, water, food, and a heat lamp on top. We all kept an eye on the newborn partridge, but no one really kept an eye on the temperature in the box.
It was sometime in the middle of the week it reached an highly absurd temperature, and the poor thing got overheated. My brother came up to me with the baby in his hands, and it did not look like it would make it. I held it keeping it company in its last hour; I didn't want it dying in a box all alone.
The hour passed, and the bird gone. My brother and I buried it in our backyard.
It's so sad to see the newborns die a few days after just hatching. Even though there was nothing we could do, the only thing we could do was to hold it and let it feel loved.