Stories Collected While Living in France
French Frog
painted red
carved in stone.
The paint on this frog is old, though maybe not as old as the frog.
When I bought the frog I didn't think about how far away I had parked.
Walking to my car was not a HOP SKIP and a JUMP.
Had I thought about the distance the frog might not have come home with me that day.
I have a frog, very similar, with faded green paint. The frog was my grandma’s and I loved it when I was a little girl.
so I was lucky enough to receive it when she died. I have it sitting near my front door and every time I look at it – I remember my grandma and the fun we had.
I collect old garden stuff too … even the ugliest little gnomes with bits missing … I’ll take them home! LOVE your frog Corey. And I’m so enjoying your charming little stories every day.
I have a frog like that in my back yard only it’s plastic. I don’t much care for it though. I don’t even know how it got there. I was thinking of recycling it, but maybe I’ll keep it knowing it has a relative in France.
Mathew
(Tongue in Cheek responds: Mathew is my dear brother. I am the oldest and the only girl, to four princely brothers; Marty, Mathew, Mark and Zane.)
Frogs are so numerous and varied. Let one in the house, and soon you will discover clusters in all the rooms, across the patio, in the garden. We hung an inked toad in 1963, and now we have thousands, too many to count. Finally, we had to say: does this frog work? And they do. Very few just sit waiting for approaching foodbits.
Leave a Reply