It seems that my wildlife adventures continue here in Florida. If you read my previous post, you know of my close encounter with the two snakes (please God, let it only be two snakes!) who live in my front yard. And tonight? It’s lizards.
I was in the garage, getting the trash ready for tomorrow morning’s collection, when I saw a big lizard a couple of feet in from the closed garage door. He was stock still, so I toed him gently. He sprang to life and ran toward the corner beside the garage door. So I opened the big, double-width door and told him to go outside. Nope. Nothing.
I really like lizards. Lizard was one of my grandson’s first words. Sizzard, actually, which is too cute for words. Lizards eat lots of bugs. They can grow back their tails. They can change color. Yeah, you always know if you spot a plant lizard, a mulch lizard, or one who hangs on on your beige patio furniture. But back to our friend in the garage.
He hid inside a few things we have standing in the corner. Why we have part of a shelf and a hydraulic jack near the demoted-to-now-only-for-the-car vacuum is probably another story. Anyway, he slithered and skittered all around and under these things before eschewing the ginormous opening to the outside world and dashing under my car. Grr.
I picked up a long reachy thing for painting and carefully placed it under my car. I urged him toward the wide-open door and he ran out from the car and, for some reason I can’t comprehend, hopped into my back wheel. I gave up! I told him, “This is why you people never evolved!”
So I’m going to fret about him stuck in there all night and worry about him when I drive out of there in the morning. But then again, they are pretty resilient. I hope he’ll be just fine. He was pretty big, which means he’s lived for several seasons.
Hmm. Probably in my garage.
Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?
And two of them because, apparently, one isn’t enough.
I came home from a hot, sweaty run and found two lovely reptiles just steps off my front porch. But not before I’d weeded all around those bushes. Up to my shoulder, too. Eek.
So I know these snakes aren’t the venomous kind. I know they eat big bugs and keep any rodents away that might dare to come up to the house. But, still.
There I was, sweaty and breathing fast and pulling out weeds when BAM! Snakes. *shudder* I just had my hand under those bushes. I just had my hand under those snakes!
I have to admit, now that I’m safely in the house with the door bolted shut, they aren’t really scary looking. In fact, they’re kind of cute.
If you like that sort of thing….
Bailey is now nicknamed 5 o’clock shadow. He doesn’t have dark fur or a slinky disposition. Here’s the thing. He has this habit of standing close behind you, just at 5 o’clock. I was calling him “blind spot,” since that’s the very spot he puts himself. Oh, and he’s gotten stepped on more than once!
You have to be careful around him, though. He happily scampers behind you but it’s when you’re at a task like washing dishes at the sink or standing in the kitchen on the phone that you have to watch out! He’s tripped all of us on occasion and after you yell his name he stares up at you with those big brown eyes, you feel like a doofus for hurting his feelings even as you’re grateful you didn’t crush his little body, lol.
So I have to check the blind spot. Because now that the clocks changed? He stands at 6 o’clock!
One door closes. Does another open? I’m not getting philosophical at all! The door in question is the one on the pantry.
Our house is just about ten years old, and I think it’s settled a bit. That, and let’s face it, the pantry door is probably the most opened and shut door in the house. So, after all that activity it’s no wonder that the doorknob quit latching onto the doorjamb. Grr.
Now, this wouldn’t be a big problem, since the door wasn’t swinging open or squeaking or anything. Nope. But not being able the click the door shut is a big pain in the butt when my grandson is here! Yep. He’s always popping into the pantry just like any guy. Looking for something to eat that catches his fancy. I had to fix it. Today.
I went online and did a little research. Then I used my new rechargeable screwdriver/drill from Ikea and removed the strike plate. The doorknob latched just great onto the jamb without the plate, but I couldn’t leave it like that! So I took a good look at the plate and saw it was bent.
Got out a rubber mallet and pounded the thing flat again. Then I reattached it but the darn knob still wouldn’t catch. I saw that the top of the plate fell into the poorly cut hole the builders put in the jamb, but I wasn’t going to fill it in, etc. Instead I cut a small piece of emery board and fit it behind the plate. I then screwed it into place and voila! It worked!
So another door closes, lol. And stays closed when it needs to. Yay, me!
I love Ikea. Not ironically. Not because I’m supposed to. But just because it’s friggin’ fantastic!
I don’t know if it’s the ginormous warehouse feel or the big, oversized shopping bags, but I find I just don’t get there often enough. I like eating in the cafeteria-like food court, things like salmon wraps and Swedish meatballs. These little broccoli-potato cakes that I could probably make at home but why bother? Oh, and making our way from the top down through the many departments looking for treasures.
Sure, we laugh as we attempt to pronounce the names of some of the things. Why is my rechargeable drill called a “fixa?” Wait. I think I can figure that one out. On this trip I bought bathmats and more pieces for my grandson’s wooden train set. The aforementioned drill and a package of drinking straws. Oh, my daughter declared that they weren’t trying any longer, since the straws were just called “soda.” Seems on the nosey, but not bad.
So we got to pack up our huge blue shopping bags with things I needed and some I didn’t, and made one last stop before checking out. The market.
Hey, I can’t leave the place without at least two bags of Swedish fish!
I put on my makeup with Bailey brushes this morning. No, not with the dog. But it felt darn close.
Here’s what happened. My sister got me hooked on Bare Minerals makeup about a year ago. The products are great but the brushes can be a little expensive. Very luxurious, though. To keep them in shape you have to clean them properly every once in a while. So yesterday I washed them with baby shampoo as recommended.
They came out clean and soft, no surprise. Most of them are made of natural bristles, so they cleaned up just fine. There was an unexpected drawback, though. I wash Bailey with the same baby shampoo.
So this morning, while putting on my makeup with squeaky clean brushes my nose picked up on the scent of freshly washed dog. *sigh*
Well, he’s just as soft so I guess it’s okay. I’m still not going to use his face on mine!