It's after 9pm and I have not touched my camera all day. I consult The Wife, seeking inspiration.
She looks at me disgustedly and says, 'Why don't you take a picture of the cat?'

The cat ... Lucy hated me the first time she saw me. The Wife had three cats when we met: the other
two were happy to become friends, Lucy payed me no attention. It was only after the others died two
years ago, that Lucy would even look at me. Still, any attempt to aim a camera at her usually results
in a quick trip out the catflap. Last night, she co-operated for about 20 seconds. I got four shots
off before she said enough and took shelter under the kitchen table.

This is not the greatest shot, I know. But, for 15, Lucy's not a bad looking old girl.
But she is still a witch.