Back from the Dead

I just erased today's post.  There was nothing anyone would want to read in it.  It had nothing fresh or new.  Oh, there were lots of words, of course.  Sometimes I fool myself and think I've said something.  But I hadn't.

And then. . . just now. . . something happened.  You may remember that I was enamored with a cat that would come and look into the house through the bottom pane of the kitchen door--old Black and White.

Well, Black and White disappeared.  It hadn't shown up for weeks.  I wondered about it until the neighbor told me her cat had gotten into a fight and had to be taken to the vet's.  He fixed the cat up and said it would be o.k., but then it died of a heart attack.  It was a black and white cat, she said.  Oh, my.  We grieved for old Black and White.

But just now, Black and White came to call.  At first, I wasn't certain it was the same cat.  But it was, Ili confirmed.  Old Black and White back from the dead.  A miracle, of sorts.

I've been in some sort of torpor.  I did nothing but sleep all weekend.  I think now I should come back from the dead, too.  I'll take my inspiration from old Black and White.

I like today's picture.  I don't know why, really, but if you look closely, the guy with the guitar is looking at the girl who just dropped the catsup/ketchup on her leg and laughing.

Little things.