Friday, February 18, 2011
Attack of the Frogs!
It was dusk, mid-summer, and I was walking to my getaway. Barefoot. On the dirt road. Not a care in the world. Until...squish. Yep. I said it. I had stepped on a frog. It made this awful croaking sound and squishing sound and crunching sound all at once...I suppose it was a frogly dying sound. I won't even attempt to describe the feeling under the ball of my foot. Terrible. Horrific. I began to scream. Couldn't. Move. What to do? Keep. Screaming. I figured if I screamed long enough, someone would come out and see who was killing me. Thankfully, someone did. Nanny. When she understood the problem, she got the car and rescued me from the would-be death valley for frogs. That was attack numero uno.
Because of the dirt road and the country atmosphere, the entire summer could actually have been considered the first attack. Consider sitting on the porch swing, and you can't let your feet down because if you do, the frogs will catch your scent and begin jumping onto the porch. Truly. They smelt my fear. It was the summer of my disillusionment with the country.
Attack number two could be any number of froggish nightmares over the years, but I will go with the attack in...the bathroom. Yes, you read correctly. The. Bathroom. At the house I now live in. Chris and I had just started dating. I hadn't been in the house more than a half dozen times. The bathroom was calling my name, so I stepped through the hall towards the kitchen on my way to the washroom. There was this blob of something on the floor, and I knew that Chris had been working in the yard that day, so I figured some mud had fallen off of his shoe. Not so. I round the corner and the damn blob jumped at me. Right at my feet. I swear, my feet are like frog magnets. Of course, I screamed. Thankfully, there was a chair about two steps away from me, and I was standing on top of it in about one fierce leap. Screaming again. Chris was my savior that day. That frog was swiftly removed from the premises, and it took weeks before I could use that restroom again, and I STILL check the floor in that hallway before I walk through it. It happened like three years ago. And I still check.
The time of year is rapidly approaching when I absolutely detest recess duty. Why? Frogs. Kids catch the nasty creatures. Then they bring them to show the teacher. Which results in things jumping out of tiny hands towards teachers...me...It scares me to death. And a rule as a teacher is 'show no fear or they will eat you.' The kids, not the frogs. Although, I think the frogs might try.
The most recent frogly attack on my being was today. It was one of those strange weather kind of days. The ones where you know it needs to storm, yet it just won't. Where the sky is an odd shade of gray, blue, green all swirled together...and the air is sticky. There was a breeze though, so it felt good to be outside. Chris was digging up some old shrubs, and I had gone out to tell him something. He jerked this bush up out of the ground and here comes this awful brown and lime green leapster, headed straight for me! I swear it was trying to kill me. The green demon was speedy-quick, but I was like a lightning bolt getting away to the front porch. Screaming all the while. The thing was a monster. Huge. At least as big as my hand. Long, skinny legs. Bulging eyes. OMG my blood pressure is raised just thinking about it.
While I survived the attack today, it has me very worried about the endeavor that hubs and I will be working on very soon. A garden. I had a very small one last year, and did not see a single amphibian the entire spring/summer. Given my experiences in this house...I think that may not be the case with this garden. I am afraid frogly things will abound. Sigh.