I am beginning to think that the hassles of owning and renting out an apartment - and having to be a Trustee for the building because there was a lack of volunteers, is more trouble than it is worth. We've had this apartment for two years now and there has been a constant stream of headaches, whether it was for unforeseen repairs or tenant complaints. The latest is a complaint from a third floor tenant that her neighbor's pet bird is too noisy. Apparently, this is the third complaint from this person - the Trustees having been asked to sanction the acquisition of said bird (which my husband did with the proviso that there would be no ensuing complaints from neighbors). However, the tenants on the other side, also above and below have submitted no such complaints. The one above the problem bird says she barely hears it (she is a Trustee), and comments that the wild pigeons, sparrows etc. outside make far more noise. It appears that there were originally two birds in the apartment, one was a parroquete (sorry, how do you spell this?). The accused had obligingly got rid of this one bird. Unfortunately, both parties involved work from home. I've just read quite a depressing book, because it is rooted in reality: " The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, 83 1/4 Years Old ", about an old age home in Holland. One of their rules is that any bird or fish may not be of a length of more than 10 centimetres. Really? Although this book plunged me in gloom (as I am headed that way myself), it has been translated into 25 languages. Clearly, it strikes a chord. Another one I enjoyed much more was "The 100-Year-Old Man who Jumped out of the Window and Disappeared". This rollicking adventure is quite daft yet both my husband and I giggled our way through it: I mean what nicer thought that you can be fit and healthy at that age, parked under a palm tree and enjoying a great sex life? I leave you with that thought. Meanwhile, the bird stays. Note: Derek has rolled up his web and moved higher up out of my way.