My Gallant Green Garden Guy

He is an old friend.

Thought He doesn't seem to get around much, both my wife and I are always glad to find him at his usual hangout.

As we warmed into late April, I once again could not help but notice and was hearten to find our 
gaily bedight lizard friend in sunshine and in shadow, once again 
stretched out around his staked territory, the "watering hole" where the garden hose connects to the faucet beside the garage.  This large anole has been greeting us from this location for several years, a gaudy green hide with widely and wildly rotating eye sockets watchfully 
sunning himself on brick, iron fence pickets, gray garden hose, window planter box or amongst the wild flowering stalks that have taken root below the water faucet.

It is his territory, and he tells us as much by extending his red throat flap (dewlap) as a warning, and though we might take his head-bobbing and emphatic push-up gesture as a neighborly greeting, I know he means it to communicate much sterner stuff - Back off you big varmints! This is my turf, go find another place to eat your own bugs! - or I'll thrash you!.  He is gallant in his defense of his turf, he will bluster and threaten us long before he slips slowly away to shield himself behind some convenient obstacle.  He never runs and skitters quickly away from us, and we respect him all the more for that.  We are not on a first-name basis, we talk of "the anole by the faucet", but no one here has proposed a familiar moniker for this denizen, guardian of the back gate, perhaps out of respect for his lordly dignity.  He is plainly and simply, THE Green Anole. 

If you were to ask me what I like about Texas, high on my list would be the prolific population of green anoles and geckos in my backyard.  Growing up in California, I had access to a good variety of snakes and a couple of lizard species, the "blue belly" western fence lizard and the ornery alligator lizard.  But to get an anole, Mom would have to shell out 49 cents (or was it 29 cents) to get a "North American chameleon" [misnomer: the Anolis carolinensis will change color from garish Gatorade green to brown, but it is NOT a chameleon as any fourth grader who has read every single reptile and amphibian book in the school library will tell you].  My sister had an anole from the pet shop and named him "Mr. Turner" - not bad for a little girl.  I once chose the anole as the subject for research and an essay in Mr. Mortensen's 4th grade class.  My essay was selected by Mr. Mortensen to be read by him in front of the class as an example of good writing, with the caveat before he read by paper aloud that he would not name the author.  But then he mispronounced anole [a-NOL] as "a-nul-AY", I spoke up right then and there to correct my teacher's mispronunciation; immediately being greeted with an exasperated stare lacking any warmth or kindness.  I guess I should have remained an anonymous author of reptilian essays.

Anyway, me and reptiles and anoles go way back.  I count them has good omens and pleasant creatures of the God's bright and beautiful realm.  Long may THE Green Anole gather insects and be held in grandeur by us, his co-habitant of garage and garden.  He is my Gallant Green Garden Guy.

**and he let me take a selfie with him!

Kitchen Remodel: I Love the Smell of Resin in the Evening!

Still waiting on the reorder of the four upper cabinets which were mistakenly designed 3 inches too short.  But while the upper cabinets are in the process of being made right, the lower cabinets have been set and therefore they are ready for a template to be made so the counter top factory can make, deliver and install them while we wait for the other corrections.

The basic cabinetry devoid of counter tops - ready to be make fancy and functional

 When we came home one evening, the house smelled of resin and industrial solvents - oh, that is the smell of progress!  The installers had come and mounted our counter tops, which makes me love being greeted by the smell of resin in the evening.

The wife is excited when she sees her dazzling new surfaces all around the kitchen.  She does not like the odor, but I tell her it will dissipate in a day but the new kitchen can be enjoyed for a long time to come.  She buys into the temporary sacrifice.  We prance around the kitchen gliding our hands across the cool new surfaces and feeling as if we are standing on the verge of the Promised Land.  We will be cooking and living in a fresh new land of milk and honey - once the refrigerator and pantry shelves are in place.

Nobody comes to our house on Thursday of Friday to do any other work, so we assume that we have Saturday to read the newspaper in our underthings and lacy unmentionables.  Yikes! I see the contractor trucks pull alongside the curb and alert the misses, "We've got company".  She ducks discretely back into the boudoir while I cheerfully greet the electricians and general contractor on the porch.  
"Oh, I didn't text you, did I?
"No. But if you got a warrant I guess you gotta come in. ;-)"
"Sorry 'bout that."

They have arrived to do the finishing electrical.  New outlets that meet code are put in place.  The overhead LED rectangular light will be wired, replacing the hideous set of fluorescent lights (Mid-20th Century Basic Ugly Industrial Period), which were in need of new ballasts and tubes anyway.  The light they threw off into the kitchen had become dim and flickering which provided the atmosphere of a clandestine meth lab in a run down part of south Dallas. But that was then, this is now.  A small but powerful LED light is mounted under the cabinet above the sink, oh so very clean and nice. AND the final touch of grace, I am thrilled to have the new 'wild electric flower', 18 bulb, fixture extravaganza hung from the vaulted ceiling of our breakfast nook.  It looks so cool it practically glows in the dark with radiant coolness.  But I guess it is supposed to.

I describe our new light fixture as 'The Wild Electric Flower of Power"
suspended over the breakfast nook.

We were expecting LED bulbs, but it was installed with
melting amount of heat emanating from these 18 Edison bulbs.
I do not think we will be able to stand the heat in the kitchen.  They will have to go.

We return from a Saturday morning out to breakfast at downtown Garland's Hubbard's Cupboard Diner followed by an afternoon of wandering among the artists at the local Cottonwood Art Festival, and skip into the kitchen to watch the al the new-fangled lights come on with a flick of the switch.  

Dang! Our new wild electric flower fixture has been fitted with standard Edison bulbs, while the one on display at the store had LED bulbs.  The wattage from the Edison bulbs puts out a lot of heat, and as Harry Truman says, "If you can't stand the heat, swap out those bulbs to LED's".  We will squawk about being given the wrong kind of bulbs.  But us rubes are enjoying the marvels of a well lit electrified kitchen.

Almost everything include the kitchen sink

On Monday the plumbers showed up early and put in our new faucet, re-installed the old dishwasher and reattached the garbage disposal under the sink. While they are at it, they haul the old oven back into the kitchen and plug it in as well [Surprise!  Mom is getting an new glass-top burner element free stove with a convection oven for Mother's Day, Ssssh.  That old stove is OK but another new thig will be a delight]. 
We are getting close to a 100% usable cooking space.  I love America.