I've always loved frogs and taddies. When I was about 9 years old, I went on my 'first date' (I'm using the term loosely here) with a boy from my Grandma & Pop's street, who took me tadpoling. It was the best day. We got heaps of taddies and grew them out to frogs. And I found this big hunk of plastic-stuff (rubbish) that he said looked like a koala and I kept that for years as my memory of him. I don't know what happened to him. He left the street and only pops back in my mind, nameless (although it may have been David, his sister was Lisa, I remember that!), when I think of frogs and tadpoles. Oh, and with the smell of Perkin's Paste. He and his sister taught me to eat paper sandwiches with Perkin's Paste filling - did you ever do that? I had a strange upbringing :)
Anyway, I digress. We have a pond in our backyard and as the weather warms up for summer, frogs appear and their musical croaking lulls me to sleep each night (my brother-in-law visited and couldn't sleep for all the noise, so I guess it's not a lullaby for all). And then I read this gorgeous book, The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng, and it said frogs were mating when they sang all night (except this was said beautifully, not just splatted on the page like I did it!). This made a lot of sense because my frogs after a noisy night, leave masses of frog eggs in froth, and I sometimes even catch them still piggybacking.These two are in the side-by-side exhausted stage I think (I hope you can see them in the bottom left, heads obscured by the leaf for privacy of course!).
Okay, enough frog romance! Unless you think I could do a frog erotic romance story... oh... The Frog Prince X-rated! :)
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