"The frog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine..." Well, the little tree-frog from outside (could easily be same one I evicted from his lettuce, poor fellow) wants to be all mine... or rather he wants all mine to be all his. The log-box is just outside the glass door to the lounge that the tree-frogs regard as the local Amphibian MickyD's ("Just nipping out for a few fries... flies.") Inevitably I suppose some of them have taken to lurking in woodbox - from whence a certain amphibian got transported along with a fire-destined log to the big copper coal-scuttle that serves as a holding point. This seemed a fine, warm, comfortable place to him, until that homewrecker came along to put more wood in the fire.
"There's a frog!" said B, removing herself sideways at something close to the speed of light.
"Where did it go?" I asked, merely (at this stage) relieved not to have made froggy fricasse.
"Under the sofa," said B.
Now the sofa in question is a big old, heavy solid three seater long enough to sleep on. "Why didn't you stop it!?" (I am well-known for my gifted ability to ask really stupid questions.)
B (with dignity) "I thought it would be very happy under there."
With memories of my then 2 year old son James and the cute froggy he decided to keep as a pet in a hole he dug for it in the matress in his cot, and the wonderful bouquet of over-ripe deceased frog we had to search for, I could not agree with this generous sentiment. Down on my belly I peered underthe sofa - a froggy I did espy, Although I doubt that he was looking at me with love in his dewy eye. "Pass me the big brass spoon, Love" (we have a huge old brass spoon at the fire. Probably for making possets of frog or something). My attempt at spooning with froggy merely led him deeper under. "If I move the sofa forward we can tip it."
"You'll squash him."
"No I can see him. He's in the middle."
So with some grunting the heavy sofa was moved, and tipped onto its back legs. Not too far - because there is not that much room. And the intrepid frog-hunter slid his head and arm underneath, while B balances it, by leaning her whole weight on the back.
I've said and done some stupid things in my time. But "It's just hopped between your feet..." probably deserves a Darwin award.
Frog is now returned to cold outer world. Next time I might try roast frog legs. In the meanwhile here is an altogether more welcome green frog from South Australia, which I have allowed to pose temporarily in the woodbox but will happily follow under the sofa. Thank you very much, Ian.
I don't recall this being part of the marriage vows but it seems that when we get married the husband promises to remove creepy crawlies from the home.ReplyDelete
Here we have millipedes. We have frogs/toads too but they hide in the bushes and ribbit, while the intrepid millipede invaders find ingenious ways to enter the house. And so someone has to remove them and give them flying lessons...
And occasionally we have geckos but they always find their own way out and anyway they eat spiders and flies and the like so we like them.
I,too, am the official Remover of All Things Icky, Crawly or Otherwise Abhorrent to the Mistress of Mammoth Manor as well as to the Heir.ReplyDelete
Although I must say that Tripp is doing quite well by being fascinated by frogs and snakes. He's got a keen eye for the snake that one does.
However, for some reason he is afraid of the Mosquito Hawk. Which while looking like a Mosquito is actually the Mosquito's mortal enemy...for he feasts on the blood sucking beggars. However, rational discussions with 3 1/2 year old boys is a non-starter ;/
"I've said and done some stupid things in my time. But "It's just hopped between your feet..." probably deserves a Darwin award."ReplyDelete
Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. I won't ask further. Some things are best left to the imagination.
Francis - I recall making the same comment to a friend of mine's wife (removing a mouse). She looked at me (you know that look) and said "you should always read the fine print."ReplyDelete
I got to haul a gecko. (introduced himself. said his name was Gordon... ) out of the bath where it was doing wheelspins the other day too.
Do millipeds fly well? They seem to have mastered the art of perching.
Quilly, I recall counting african catfish fry (by the tens of thousand) with my little guys at around that age. They were really good (once they got 'gently don't crush' at picking up the slimy little escapee wrigglers. Train 'em young, I say. Some future heirs will need protecting ;-). Never met a mosquito-hawk but if they attack mozzies they're friends of mine.ReplyDelete
Oh, And Quilly now for the bad news -which someone shoulda told you earlier in case it slipped your own memories of youth ;-). Rational discussions only improve marginally for at least the next 14 years. After that it's a kind of either rapid progress or none. In my case 2 years in the army actually kick-started the logic circuits which hadn'd really worked much before then, but other people are probably better designed. My own kids show more common sense than I did, which is some relief.ReplyDelete
Matapam - I think I'll post about that on MGC. The reader's imagination, properly primed and pointed will outdo the writer's best effort ;-).ReplyDelete
In my defence, I did NOT drop the sofa on Dave. It might have wriggled a bit, I might have tried levitation, but I didn't actually scream and drop it.ReplyDelete
But, yes, I do think that removing all flying, crawling, jumping things is Dave's job. I do the laundry, we have to balance the work load somehow??
I'm having a really good laugh at you other girls. I caught snakes, frogs, centipedes, spiders, crawdads, tomato worms, mantises and mice, and kept them as pets. :DReplyDelete
Silverdrake - you'd have got on fine with my mum, who loved spiders and snakes.ReplyDelete