Happy Frog

My morning coffee foam, as you can see above, portrays a laughing frog eating a fly.  That is one happy frog.  His mouth is open so wide you can see his tonsils. 

Food is not always on my mind.  I am sure that there are at least one or two moments during the day when it drifts into contemplating world peace or dwells on what a big nuisance it is to stuff the vacuum hose behind the couch to ferret out those weird dust bunnies that are made up of dead insects and cat hair and look like they should be used for voodoo.  However, today my mind has been on eating full time. Maybe it’s all the food blogs I go to or maybe it’s just that winter is almost over and soon it will be possible to eat something that is green, tender and fresh and nothing like a potato.

I collected frogs as a child.  My mom would take me to one of the ponds in the UW Arboretum and we would collect tadpoles with a tiny net on a wire handle.  When the tadpoles grew legs and became frogs they lived in an aquarium with rocks and moss and a little pool for them to frolic in. I leaned real fast that frogs love to eat.  They want their live flies and they want them now!.  I swear, when I would check on them in the mornings, peering over the rim and into their glass home, all of their small eyes would swivel in unison up into mine with intense longing.  A very unsettling mind meld sensation would come over me that broadcast, like a neon sign on the highway, {{EAT NOW}}.{{EAT NOW}}}   

Soon I was a regular around the neighborhood with my net, hunting for frog food. I learned that the old adage “You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” was like most of the things grown-ups would tell you in a solemn pompous voice....a big lie.  To catch the most flies you need a big fresh gleaming pile of dog-doo.  I became well acquainted with these piles in order to feed my little --what are groups of frogs called?, Oh well, -- lets say, to feed my little fragle of frogs.  

The fun part was when I put the live flies in the aquarium -- all hell would break loose, snaky frog tongues flailing and snapping until all the black buzzing objects were gone.  I miss those guys, they were such happy eaters.  

Today I was a happy eater too.  Blueberries and walnuts with sage honey on greek yogurt, Roasted squash curry soup with floating garlic toasts, and for dinner Ling Cod cooked by my clever spouse in a way that I am sure will surprise and delight me.

In fact it’s almost dinner time and hours since my lunch and I’m getting a hollow feeling. I can’t stop myself from swiveling in the direction of the back door with a gleam in my eyes, that I am quite sure will hit him like the collective yearning of 20 frogs all  wanting to {{{{{{EAT NOW}}}}}}}

*Note  I googled it -- it’s an army of frogs and a knot of toads -- go figure.

© Robin Wendell 2009