painting outside the lines

The obsessive-compulsive should never have their houses painted in Mexico.

I have already written about the incredible improvisational skills that make Mexicans artisans at getting the job done.  (safety is a cold shower)  But there is always a price that comes with free spirits.

The absence of drop cloths, for example.  In the four years I have livbed in this house, I have noted a few splatters of paint on walkways from the last time the place was painted.  They now have company.

Red (from the sealant).  Cimarron (the color of the main walls).  And Cascade Twilight (for the accents).  The Pied Piper has nothing to match the detritus of the painters.

Paint on walkways.  Some on the shrubbery.  A bit on a crocodile sculpture.  (We tend to worship our local wildlife in our art choices).

But this one was the best of all.

I was securing the house Sunday evening and discovered that I have another little lizard that lives in a lock.  One that is apparently not fast enough to escape Benja's fast brush.

This gecko is ready to join the Navy Seals with his new camouflage.