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Carol Perkins: The Lizard Whistle Story
After harrowing home invasion, Carol plans the perfect Father's Day present for Defender of the Hearth
The next earlier column: Carol Perkins: Living in Country IS The Good Life
By Carol Perkins
My breakfast room is my "go to" room for projects, as well as for those things I need to do but put off. My theory is to make a big mess once and clean it up, so I set up my sewing machine on the kitchen table, my ironing board in a corner, my tabletop ironer/steamer on another side of the round table, and piled my ironing on two chairs and my sewing kit in another. For the next two days, I was going to finish my projects.
By the second day, shavings of materials and scattered pieces of thread lay under my feet. Half the clothes laid out for ironing had fallen to the floor, one by one, and walking space was minimal. A small child could have hidden under my mess. However, it wasn't a small child that worried me; it was another visitor. Just as I was finishing up for the day and down on my knees under the table retrieving dropped pins, I eyed him in the corner by the window. I backed out carefully, trying to keep him in place so I could get a weapon.
I grabbed a nearby broom, eased it under the table to the corner very gently and then thrust it against him, holding him in place. However, he was quick and slithered under the broom and a chair. I poked at the chair; I moved the chair but he had vanished. I gave a 180-degree sweep under every piece of furniture in that room, but he was gone. Now what?
Dashing to the computer, I found a home remedy; broken eggshells. I don't know why I do it but when I crack an egg, I put the shell back in the cartoon. Ahah! I had saved eleven eggs shells, which I crumbled over the kitchen floor, threw some out the back door and left Guy a note (I had to leave for a meeting.)
"Man of the House: lizard in breakfast room or someplace else. Please find it before it crawls up your back tonight or worse yet, MINE!"
When I returned, my first question was "Did you find that lizard."
"What do you think, I have a lizard whistle! It probably went down the basement." Was that supposed to comfort me? Actually, in the process of trying to wrangle that critter, I left the back door open so he might run out. As I was spreading my eggshells, I spotted either his brother looking for him or the varmint himself. I won't be sure until I look into his eyes. As for the whistle, Father's Day isn't far off.
This story was posted on 2018-05-16 02:58:44
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