Michelle is an intriguing little woman; very difficult to categorize; nothing predictible about her; marches to a distant drum. And she has this thing for lizards. Lizards? Next to horses and “Disney” the dog, lizzies may be her favorite life form. She thinks they are beautiful. Last week she was riding through the woods and spotted a whopper down among the palmettos. “He was a really big dude,” the cow girl laughed, as her hands spread a foot or more apart indicating El Lizardo was truly an iguana-class brute. Since I doubt we are naturally “blessed” with any some-such so large here in Florida, I suppose he was an unindigenous.
Speaking of iguanas: We were on the island of Curacao several months ago and Michelle was the only person in our tidy little group who just had to get close and take a photo of a large lime-green Iguana posing in the road. As soon as she snapped the shutter the thing was gone like a green bottle rocket (murder! I had no idea they were that fast!). The only T-shirt I have from Costa Rica, the one she bought me, has a large iguana on it. I have already made note of the little leaping lizards who surround this house and manage to get in, by and by. In fact, we had one as a "guest" just the other day above our heads in the living room. Since our ceiling is vaulted, no way could we get this one down and out. As I type, he is somewhere in this place creeping around right now. And, about once a month, when I am opening a gate, emptying trash or picking something from our herb garden, a tiny little sucker will leap on my hand and scare the holy hell right out of me.
I don't hate lizards and certainly am not terrified by them but if it were left to me, I would banish them all to some place wherever I am not. Michelle, however, enjoys the things, little, big, even enormous, as in eighteen foot alligators.
Obviously, it’s a slow news day here when I am forced to write about lizards. The only local news worthy of note was two male roommates over on the mainland engaging in a food fight. No, not a fight with food, but a fight over food. Roommate A was so furious at Roommate B for B's habit of filching A’s food when A was gone that A gave B a serious conk on the coconut as punishment when he discovered his chicken gizzards gone. Roommate A is now getting his grub at the county lock-up while B, sore noggin and all, is no doubt cleaning out the rest of A’s frig.
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Pocket Pistol of the Day
