Probably not. Instead, here are three things that have managed to crack my crappy mood.
Oh hell, I can only come up with two.
Showing posts with label toads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toads. Show all posts
8.25.2011
Good god am I grumpy
and I have been for days. Would you like to hear about the prick on a 4-wheeler whose head I nearly threw a rock at? Or how I wished the man driving the Halliburton truck that just about toppled me into the ditch would EAT A POISONOUS MUSHROOM AND DIE?
Probably not. Instead, here are three things that have managed to crack my crappy mood.
Oh hell, I can only come up with two.
Probably not. Instead, here are three things that have managed to crack my crappy mood.
Oh hell, I can only come up with two.
9.17.2010
For the Love of Toad
I really, really love toads. There has always been a toad, forever and ever, that lives in my mother's greenhouse. Some years the toad spent sunny afternoons in a little pillow of baby's breath on the gravel floor. Some winters she bedded in a potted plant... geranium, cyclamen, begonia - a soft rising and falling of the peat soil after watering. Always the same big toad, the size of a whole heaping handful? I don't suppose, but I don't know... But always a toad, on the sidewalk at the greenhouse door, catching bugs in the butter-melt of light at night.
Today there was a big toad in the garden I weeded. We both were sheltered under cosmos. The toad startled me in a clump of grass, half submerged in the black-pearled dirt that worms had roiled up. Later, I startled some skateboarders just off the school bus - me, short and blond and quietly rattling around inside sunflowers and polygonum. Hidden, like I like to be.
I would never have seen the toad if it were not for the warts on its back. They look like geodes.
I live in the city now. There are no toads in my garden, or snakes. I hate that. I've been waiting for one for six years, and I'm going to move to the country soon because, while they have not come, I still seem to be here.
But there is a toad who lives between two sidewalk blocks on Cherry Street. You have to go down the alley, then up, anytime after the streetlamp has switched on. Then, there's Toad! So you say "evening, Toad." And Toad says nothing at all.
Today there was a big toad in the garden I weeded. We both were sheltered under cosmos. The toad startled me in a clump of grass, half submerged in the black-pearled dirt that worms had roiled up. Later, I startled some skateboarders just off the school bus - me, short and blond and quietly rattling around inside sunflowers and polygonum. Hidden, like I like to be.
I would never have seen the toad if it were not for the warts on its back. They look like geodes.
I live in the city now. There are no toads in my garden, or snakes. I hate that. I've been waiting for one for six years, and I'm going to move to the country soon because, while they have not come, I still seem to be here.
But there is a toad who lives between two sidewalk blocks on Cherry Street. You have to go down the alley, then up, anytime after the streetlamp has switched on. Then, there's Toad! So you say "evening, Toad." And Toad says nothing at all.
9.10.2010
Bathroom Toad
This is the little walnut-sized toad that lives in the corner of the lady's room at Gibbs Garden Center in LeRaysville, PA. He is short (under three quarters of an inch), so he can go in and out under the door as he pleases. He is my favorite thing that I found this week.
And this is the spider who lives in my orach seeds. He (she?) resembles toad, don't you think? (Click the picture to make it bigger.) This spider is my favorite thing that I found last week.
And this is the spider who lives in my orach seeds. He (she?) resembles toad, don't you think? (Click the picture to make it bigger.) This spider is my favorite thing that I found last week.
