Mojo moved out

To say my mojo for a daily blip is wanting, is the classic British understatement.  How can I enthuse over finding an interesting image and jolly-talk my day when it starts and ends with wondering what happened to Elizabeth?  It is a week tomorrow since she disappeared and I am heart sick from looking, asking, talking. 

Yet I get up each morning and my day is occupied. This one with the first full faculty meeting all morning and department meeting all afternoon, both of which were in fact, just fine. So nice to see my colleague-neighbour-friends after the summer break - even though I lack the enthusiasm to enjoy them as much as usual for my heart is elsewhere.  Oh, and it rained. And rained. A lot. All day.

Back home in the evening, Harry and I give solace to each other, constantly interrupted by visitations from the various visitor campus cats, hunting an easy dinner-in-a-bowl, and we both jump every time the cat flap dances, just to sigh and go back to what ever it is we were doing before, as we realise that the cat who just walked in, isn't her.