My daughter is in the middle of moving and she just sent me this snapshot of something she unearthed in the process. This is a collage I made from torn paper back in 1978, and it shows my daughter with her/our cat ... long dead (cat, not daughter) ... I had forgotten this cat. But my new kitten, Lulu, is almost identical. Not that it couldn't be argued that if you seen one black cat you've seen 'em all.

Here's Lulu yesterday, on a hot day, lying on her back on a wicker couch on the porch

Actually, of course, I see now that Lulu has a white beard and feet; and the earlier cat...whose name was Sebastian...was completely black.

After a hot weekend and some good company (and thanks to Betsy, who went home and emailed me a rhubarb cake recipe when she saw that I had some leftover rhubarb here. I just made it, and just tasted it Yum.) it was cloudy and cooler today, and I was at my desk all day long. I had typed page 410 when I quit for today. Each time I stop work, it is with questions in my mind...plot things...and I find that overnight I think about those things, partly subconsciously...and often the solutions to them appear in the morning.

In the past, I have found that sometimes, before going to sleep...or on waking...I willhave a thought, only to find later that I can't remember it...only that I HAD it; not a clue what it WAS.  So now I have put pen and paper beside my bed and have been sometimes making notes. I live in fear that I will die in my sleep and someone will try to make sense of those notes.

One says: She is embarrassed by her feet.