Pie Plate

A cut paper plate slice lends a little white space to the grass. The sight of it reminds me I have recently seen ceramic plates made the shape of a pie slice. Is there no end to human ingenuity and inventiveness?
A black and white cat rests on the porch railing of a house near the woods. It is, I think, a kitty called peanut. Its white marking is a pie slice on its nose. Another black and white cat darts off and a solid black cat disappears in another direction. There is still no sign of Tuxie. The pair of urns by the front door of that house contain forsythia branches with yellow flowers and gerbera daisies in a variety of colors called brights. Today is July 5. The grass is in browning mode.
As a result of reflecting upon the matter of a missing cat, I have decided Tuxedo, while giving no hint of it except for dappling the floor length curtains with pee, may not have been happy in his present home and has extended his visit to the Great Outdoors to leave me time to clean up the house and make the front porch more inviting, to stock up on kitty treats, to schedule play time and to supply more than enough cat litter boxes. If he could write a reverse ransom note it would be – I will come back under these conditions but not these. If it were a written request from him, it would be – Can we make our home and life together a great affair? There would be cake every day on a pie-piece shaped plate.
Paula Phipps’ beautiful book entitled Mirrors rests on the library table in my living room. A banana-peel yellow sticker two-thirds of the way down its spine indicates it is a New Book. Shiny plastic protects the dust jacket. The cover photograph shows an array of frameless art deco mirrors. The author has gathered items that take us through history, bring us the past, send us on a trip around the world, and bring new lands and cultures to us.
I was surprised to find, on page 48, a painting of a man standing next to a mirror. The mirror depicted in the painting is a twin of the mirror I can see from the living room sofa as I read this book.
I am looking at a heron. It is in a room in Texas. Isn’t it rich? The heron is gold. The book, published by W.W. Norton & Co., Inc., is due today.
This morning at six o’clock, when I came back from looking for Tuxie, the sunrise dripped molten gold on parts of plants. Tuxie is priceless. He has a black dot under his chin.


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