If you read my blog of two days ago you will know that I thought my old friend – my latterly not-so-trusty mobile camera – had finally given up the ghost, and I lamented her passing in a fittingly respectful way; I even showcased her last creations, which were rather good considering she was at death’s door at the time. Perhaps because of habit, or long attachment, I took her out shopping with me as usual this morning, though I wasn’t expecting any miracles. And indeed, nothing remarkable happened whilst we were wandering around either Tesco’s or Trago Mills store (although I did pick up some good canvasses at bargain prices).

However, as we were dropping my mother home, Chris pulled up in the car park at the end of Mum’s garden path and I noticed a fine looking ginger cat waiting on the tarmac.

“That’s Philip,” said Mum, “he’s the one who sometimes gets in through the bathroom window and likes to sleep on my bed.”

I remembered her telling me about her neighbour’s cat and I felt an affinity for him because he likes my mum. While Chris took the shopping indoors, and Mum had followed him, I stayed and talked to Philip, who was shy and jumped up on the fence. Nevertheless, he was interested and peered at me from on high. Instinctively, I reached in my bag and brought out my dead mobile…

As you can see from the photograph, my camera is not actually dead (yet) but catatonic; at least, Philip the cat was a tonic… if only for a few moments. Just look at the clouds behind Philip – see anything?