Went to Oily and Dragonlady’s little parcel of forest farm paradise on Friday, ate tamales, listened to Oily’s old records. He also told us a story about earlier in the day, he had been looking for a hat, espied his tan cap with the hula-girl on the front, picked it up off the floor and plopped it on his bald head.

He said at first he didn’t know what to make of it, the lumpy cool thing that landed dead center on his head, underneath his hat. He carefully walked into the bathroom, turned on the light, and slowly removed his cap. There, staring back at him in the mirror, was a tiny tree frog that had turned the same tan color as his ballcap. He was amazed, and stared back at it, but then the frog made a frantic flying leap after it peed all over his head.

Poor Oily.
He washed his head while Dragonlady caught the frog and relocated it to their little shady garden.