In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Friday, June 30, 2017


Before you look up the word in the urban dictionary, or on Facebook, this doesn't have anything to do with a television show, or clueless ass-clowns.

My back porch is a smorgasbord for reptiles, and amphibians. At night, the light attracts hundreds of bugs, with the majority of those that don't leave at morning being June bugs. I think their exuberance for the light leads to collisions with the bulb, or the side of the house. Regardless of the reason, there are usually around a dozen each morning dead, or dying on the porch.

Green tree frogs will perch on the patio door window for their nightly feast. I assume they eat just about anything that will fit in their mouth, which can be anything from moths, to strange looking insects right out of a science fiction movie.

Toads will wander from their hiding spots, and wait on the ground by the steps for their meal. While they appear clumsy, and slow, their speed is phenomenal. The catching of an unwary insects is faster than the blink of an eye, and the size compared to the toads is sometimes astonishing. It may take a few minutes for the toad to finally complete its meal, with plenty of mouthing, and crushing, to swallow a bug that may be wider than their head.

The frogs, and toads, are gone by first light, which leaves the "gizzies". The word gizzie is from my wife. It's her term (and now mine) for the anole lizards so common where I live.  They vary in size, but they are territorial, and the smaller lizards usually defer to the larger, unless it's a male and female. They have a tolerance for each other to a point. Eventually, one, or both, will wander away, and a new lizard will take over a territory on my back porch; sometimes finding a sleeping spot in a plant. They'll crawl into their spot at sundown, and not budge until morning light.

As I wrote, every morning leaves about a dozen June bugs on the porch. Within a few hours, they're gone, and currently, I assume its "Fat Boy" that's enjoying the feast. Fat boy? That's the name my wife gave a medium sized lizard that occupies the porch by the steps. With its stomach bulging, it lounges in an asparagus fern, while it digests breakfast. Judging by the stomach bulge, I'm thinking Fat Boy is eating a substantial amount of the June bugs.

One other denizen wanders to the porch to feed: a large red-headed skink. It will eventually arrive, quickly eat, and is gone back to the cooler ground under the porch, or in the shade. I've never seen ti eat, but considering it's timing, and the shrinking amount of June bugs, it's only logical to assume it's taking its share.

Eventually, when the weather turns cooler, the June bugs will be gone, and the smorgasbord will end. At that time, the critters that eat them all summer will semi-hibernate, and only appear on a warm, sunny day, if at all. The cacophony of night creatures ends, and the only sound at night is the wind in the trees; the sound pleasant and relaxing; broken only by the call of a night bird.


  1. I have big old toads that gather under my red security lights. The bugs flit around the lights, get tired, and swoop down to where the toads can get them. Big Mistake.

    1. I noticed some huge feces, which I attributed to fairly large mammals, until my wife saw a large toad pass the previous night meal. Toads not only eat big, they pass big.