I bought this jug and bowl a long, long time ago, in an antique mall near Oxford Station - the old Jam Factory, to be precise - and no-one other than me has ever much liked it, which means that it's tended to live a banished life - these days, it's in the bathroom off my study, where no one else is likely to complain about it. Let it stand in for touching base, which is what coming home for a couple of days feels like - even if much of the time this also feels like General Cat Hospital. That being said, LucyFur, now recovered, would like the entire internet to know that, this afternoon, she caught a lizard in our living room. Don't ask. I came in to find the poor little thing, tailless, lying on its back, paws in the air, a few entrails lying around. I went to find a camera to document this improbable event, and returned to see the very last centimeters of the lizard disappearing down Lucy's throat. No entrails left, either.