Now Here's A Question You Don't Get Asked Everyday.
The E@L kitchen is pretty much left to itself these days. The occasional low-tech cooking foray. Toast. Poached eggs. The banana, orange juice, yoghurt and Herbal-life meal-supplement smoothie. On odd occassions, luckily for the innocent of the world, the sporadic venture into an exotic stir-fry involving dissecting a squid or two, or maybe a simple Kylie Kwong chicken dipping sauce (OK, Pete, ONE of these days I'll poach the chicken and crispy-fry it properly rather than just buy a roasted one from Carrefour).
But generally it's a ghost kitchen. With genuine ghost shit.
Whole grain toast leaves the odd seeds, grain, on the bench top. E@L is sure that's what these little dark things are that he has spotted once in a while during the intermittent bench-wipe. Unnoticed, some detritus of the rushed breakfast that has lain there for a few days.
Mind you, some are a fair way away from the toaster.
They look remarkably like...
Now, if this was his old home in South-Eastern Australia, he'd get his pussy up on his lap and give him a good talking to, viz: "You're a farm cat, Misty, you're supposed to catch mice! I'm not supposed to find mouse droppings on my toast bench! Now do your job, or it's - eeeh-eeeh-eeeh - the violin-string factory, you lazy old tom."
But this is not Australia. It's a tropical island in the Malacca Straits, or thereaboots. As if you can't tell by the unremitting rain and humidity. You don't get kitchen mice here. The rats have eaten them. Or do you?
Geckos, you DO get. Here at E@L GHQ we have a veritable - wait for it - - - plethora of geckos. OK, a couplethree.
They scurry along the kitchen floor when E@L stumbles in during the night to get something to ease the roaring fires of his parched throat. They thread their sucker-footed tread along the walls and seek refuge under pictures, behind clocks, cook-books. One day E@L is going to spear one with his knife onto the wall, refuse to clean it up, smear it guts across the wallpaper and have its decomposition recur in an unpleasant motif for his wife's infidelity throughout his strange French post-modern novel... (What the fuck am I talking about? Robbe-Grillet's "Jealousy" is the only novel I can think of with a gecko in it. Albeit, a dead one. Or were there geckos in "The Quiet American"? A very Nabokovian question.) [Ed. Oh fuck, that's right; it was a centipede not a gecko. Nevermind, just trying to be a smart-arse.]
Tonight there was a definite 1.5cm stretch of what unmistakably amounts to the droppings of some small animal or other, drying-out nicely on the top of the dish-washer: anyone coming around for dinner tomorrow? White at the top, then dark brown, about 2 mm wide. It actually looked more like a bird's droppings. E@L is not an expert here. But mouse turds don't stretch out like that either, E@L is pretty sure. Or do they? This mini-sausage didn't look the same as the seed-like things he has seen in the past - maybe they WERE bread grains! - so the question has to be asked, just to be sure, so we can all rest easy...
What does gecko shit look like?
Please: no samples in the mail. Just descriptions, or photos even better. (E@L wiped and disinfected the kitchen before he thought to document the excreta in question, so no photos from this end.)
Does E@L have to get some mouse-traps or just wipe the benches down more often to prevent attracting the feeding geckos?
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
yeah, that's lizard shit alright. fookers have invaded our house too.
Geckos, lizards???? Horrible!!!!!!!!
Are you living 1. floor?
Hey! Geckos are your friends - don't kill them. They bring good fortune (according to Mrs HKMacs) and they deal with the mozzies. (I do presume you have mozzies in Singapore or are they banned!)
But they shit on the food preperation area! Found some more "evidence" this morning...
Nah, I wouldn't hurt them. Just joshin'... It's because I'm never home, they think they run the place.
More annoying is 4 cockroaches that have somehow got into the digital display on our microwave and there's no way to get them out other than destroying the machine. Fucking disgusting!
Gross! Gotta love the tropics!
An excellent quite spooky take on annoying insects: Italo Calvino's story "The Argentine Ant"...
Mate good to see that you have agreed to remain true to the essence of Kylie's cooking techniques...though after sifting thru the gecko entrails story I lost my appetite!
Dont forget the secret handshake at the bloggers meeting. Mackie
All people. Note, that is NOT a dog, as someone who should know better thought.
From this angle there really is no way to be sure.
Vote (1) E@L if you think Misty looks like the freaking cat he is.
Vote (2) Smoot if you are incapable admitting you are wrong... ;-)
We're in the tropics. Anything could look like a cat.