Pictures and words

Without further ado, Gentle Reader, I give you:


Toad Two, aka Medium.  This was taken on a day where he lounged on this wet towel atop the small swamp cooler, as if resting from some enormous exertion, for about 24 hours.   We were starting to be concerned until he made an almost baby goat like leap straight up in the air, and then over to the lattice on the wall.  Show off.  At this point, 2 was a bit larger than an inch.  Toad One, aka Tiny, was almost invisible at one half inch, and Toad Three, the Large, was like a regular size frog.  Exciting stuff when they all played musical whatnots with the various buckets and jars we have around the kitchen.  Toad Two has grown a LOT, as I see each time he surprises me.  You would think with my emphasis on pattern recognition I would have made some surmise when I saw a toad turd on the floor right in front of the box with my baking rings and pans in it.  Innocently minding my own business, I lugged the box onto the floor, looking for some baking pans, and what to my wondering eyes appeared but another large toad turd INSIDE the box, in the middle of a stack of a jillion baking rings.  When Toad Two himself leapt up onto yet another ring in another part of the box (thankfully NOT silpat), I stifled my exclamation of surprise and he stifled (a bit) his look of total exasperation, as if to say, JEEZ WOMAN.  Everywhere I go there you are!  I murmured something to the effect that I had never before had the pleasure of finding toads in my muffin tin,/sink/toilet/waterbucket/middle of floor/souffle dish, so he had to excuse me.  Humph, or its toad equivalent, wafted on the breeze as he jumped into the nether recesses of a double boiler.  This, then, is the daily excitement.  Along with the black dog who lives with the donkeys up the road who gives us a magisterial head wave as we drive by.

Fall is in the air.  Everything has changed color and the leaves are blowing around crazily.  This means yet another, imminent, encounter with yet another wood cutter.  The complexities of getting anything handled around here sometimes threaten to swamp what remains of my small but active mind but I shall sally forth and attempt to make a deal with whoever it is this time, as woodcutters seem to move around a lot in these parts.  Preferably this time the deal will only involve me paying for the wood, and not involve me supplying beer and picking up dog turds as well.  We’ll see.

Otherwise? I am increasingly struck with the impression that the political, corporate influenced world we all live in is almost completely built of outright lies- it is almost funny.  But not quite.  It makes planning pieces of one’s life a challenge on some level because the playing field is not only not even, not level, but also gets changed at the drop of a hat depending on who decides they’re calling the game.  I find more and more that what I feel as a citizen of this country is sorrow and grief; certainly not pride.  In fact, I’m starting to feel like a bit of an idiot for falling for the line in the first place, way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.  But all this press of event is part of the flux of time, of course.  Little specks flying through it we are, made of stardust and diatoms, indeed we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff which, of course, it all is in the end.  Then it comes back to the basics again- dealing with fear and uncertainty, learning to live with enough courage to be truthful.  I had no idea it would be such a life long endeavor with such ever expanding consequences and vistas.  Thank you, in any event, to those of you who read these tales!

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