Inflicting thoughts on unwary readers so that I can improve my tyqing skills

Sunday, April 30, 2006

the incredible loudness of small frogs

It is spring and the frogs are croaking in the evenings. Sometimes I housesit at a friends' house; he has a little pond with a few goldfish and a single resident frog. When that frog started croaking, he got my attention. Judging by the sound, that frog must have been big, so I thought. I searched, expecting to find him easily. When he noticed my presence, he shut-up. I leave and he starts in again. So I stayed still and quiet. After a while I was able to trace his location and got a look at him. He was a tiny frog, about the size of a quarter!!
For some reason, that frog reminds me of Harley Davidson motorcycles. All sound, no substance. My brother in law has a BMW motorcycle and the potential for noisy rumbling is converted into performance. Fast and quiet. So, perhaps I should take a lesson from the lowly frog. If I do, what would it be?
How about some homilies. I'm not real sure what that word means, maybe it is the lazyness that sets in when it is time to look-up unfamiliar words. The word looks like what you do when you lie on the couch watching TV at home. Anyway, I think a homilie is something like "the squeeky wheel gets the grease". If that is the case, the croaking frog version would be: "the louder frog gets to polywalk". Heh Heh. Sorry.
So the frogs are croaking in the evening. You can hear them for blocks and blocks. From a distance the sound is comforting, lulling. Good for going to sleep. Up close they can drive you nuts. Makes you want to holler:":SHUT UP". It all depends on your frame of mind. Like if you slept well, the bird chirping is a welcome sound. If you wake grumpy, you want to go outside and holler: "SHUT UP". It just shows to go ya that attitude is everything. SHUT-UP!! ok.

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About Me

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I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.