Wordless Wednesday: Frogs, Katydids, Skinks!

Froggy Froggy Birthday

Today, August 3rd is Roger's 69th birthday. That's right, after today, we can say he's"pushing 70." And in Roger's case, "pushing" is an active verb. He's still as wild and crazy as he's always been. Maybe a bit slowed down given the year he's had, but even with all of that, he's practically unstoppable. We haven't even shown you the photos of the woodshed he and a wonderful guy named "Guy" built last week. We needed that woodshed so we'd have a place where we could threaten to take each other for the whopping we both need on a very regular basis. Roger is going to do a post on that woodshed and the garden, or he's going to woodshed. Those are his choices! That's a promise.

But in the meantime, here's a photo of the little froggy I found in the greenhouse Tuesday morning. I went out early to water the last few tomatoes and basil we still have in six-packs, when something very froggy moved away from the water. It's been hanging out in the six--pack all day. If it stays one more day, we'll have to name him!

Happy birthday, Roger.

Leaf Frogs and Other Things

I've posted most of these photos (not this sunflower and praying mantis, though!) on Facebook, but I really wanted our blogging friends (who are not on Facebook) to see this stuff too. Sometimes I think we should just do all our posting here, and then link to it there. I find the whole dual existence a bit disconcerting. I think blogging requires more thought than Facebook, and I guess most of the time I really don't feel like thinking. The randomness of status updates and idle chatter there suit my desire to mostly say nothing.
Still, things are happening here everyday. Roger is on day 11 (of 14) of his second (of eight) rounds of chemo and doing fantastically well. We are sincerely and seriously grateful everyday that he feels so good. He's been busy planning where to put the sauna and starting the online search for a good sauna heater. We need that completed before winter hits, but the weather has been so incredibly excellent that winter seems like a thing so distant it's hard to conceive of it as real.
These little Pacific Tree Frogs have really caught our attention lately. We like heading down to the pond just to see in what little secret hideaway spot we're going to find them next. It's always a delight to notice their beautiful striped eyes peeking at us from some crazy, unexpected place. These guys are really tiny things. Their littleness cannot be conveyed in photos, and I just don't think they'll tolerate a ruler for comparison. Roger says they're about a half inch.
It's hard to imagine that it's been only six months since we moved into our house. We are watching the sun and trying to guess just how low behind the lanky tall pines it will be on solstice. Our raised beds are planted, and we are dreaming of kale, chard, onions and garlic. We laugh about how happy such a future makes us. We are simply giddy about greens and frogs; sunflowers and praying mantis; and life is good.

One Day The Froggies Arrived

I keep trying to remember in which (if any) of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's novels it rained frogs. I know it rained frogs in some wonderful book I read years and years ago. I was reminded of it while walking down by the pond and into the surrounding grasses the other day. There were frogs, frogs, and more frogs everywhere.
At first I thought I was looking at a tiny snail, something shining coppery in the sunlight. When it hopped to another leaf, it truly startled me and my assumptions. Of course I took a closer look around and realized I was seeing little froggies on nearly half the leaves. Each step I took I saw even tinier frogs leaping ahead of me on the ground where they had been hiding. We suddenly have a large population of Pacific Tree Frogs in various sizes and colors hanging out in the tall lily leaves. Here's a bit of what it looks like down there.
Pacific Tree Frogs can change their colors to match their environment.
Here's a green one in context. You can see how small they are, and how easily they can be overlooked. They really do blend right in.
This is a close-up of the guy in the above photo. We like how multicolored he is.
There are three frogs in the above photo. Can you see all of them?
This large one came up onto the window ledge by the kitchen table and looked in at us. I waved hello to it. I would have invited it in, but it climbed up the wall and disappeared pretty quickly. They really are everywhere.

A Diatribe

Have you ever read the book or seen the movie "Moby Dick" (the one with Gregory Peck). In it Ahab says, "Talk not of blasphemy to me, man, I'd strike the sun if it insulted me." I've always loved that line. The power and anger in it appeals to some part of me. We have been back in Washington a little over two weeks. I can count on one hand the number of times we've seen the sun. Here's the insult of clouds, they part just before sundown and dazzle us with color, after all day blocking the light and warmth from penetrating into our Vitamin D-starved psyches. Oh sure, it's crazy for me to run outside and curse the sky, but that doesn't stop me. The things I've said would make probably make Ahab blush. Too bad.
Nothing seems as beautiful against the same gray sky, day after day. I photographed an eagle flying as low over our yard as I've ever seen. Eye contact, absolutely. But the photos might as well have been taken in black and white. There is a dullness to this winter landscape that seems punishing without end. Sunday morning temperatures were a freezing 30 F. It warmed up to 40F and there was a soft drizzle. Jean Paul Sartre said that hell was other people, but he must not have ever spent time in the pacific northwest.
And then there's the relentless political landscape. What's with Obama's minister sounding like the kind of person who usually stands on a street corner screaming, the one I cross the street to avoid. Why isn't he talking kindly about his god? Isn't that what ministers or reverends are supposed to do when they are preaching in church? Why would Obama ever listen to a man who sounds like that? I'm disappointed. What's with Hillary Clinton? She's acting exactly as I thought she would. What a freakin' bummer. I answered the phone the other day and the voice on the other end said that he was from the Hillary campaign. I said, "I'm not going to give you money. She's not showing leadership, and I totally hope she loses." He said, "Oh, okay." I have had enough. These two Democratic candidates need to be running against the Republican machinery morning, noon, and night. They should be able to distinguish themselves by their arguments, their appeals, their platforms. I'm tired of them running against each other and playing gotcha on things that are irrelevant. At some point we are going to have to sidle up to one of them and plant the transforming kiss.

Our economy is absolutely in the tank, folks. I don't know about you, but we're trying to figure out which is the best-- having a house and land that will continue to lose value, or converting it to cash which will also continue to be worth less. That's about the gist of it, as we see it. I keep saying to Roger, I sure don't want to have to take one of our wheelbarrows full of thousand dollar bills up to the co-op to buy a loaf of bread. Did you notice how the Eliot Spitzer debacle came at just the right time to keep the pundits off the economy trail? Funny how that happens. Like it was planned, or something. Don't take your eyes off the economy. It's a show you won't want to miss.

Well, that's all we've got, friends.

All photographs taken in the yard: The sky at sunset; the low-flying eagle; a tree frog trying to get to the pond.