A Frog In The Kitchen

 No, Maurice hasn’t been cooking in the kitchen, although he does sometimes. I actually had a real live little green frog in my kitchen one night. We have no idea how he got inside our house. It’s a real mystery. I tried to get a photo of him but the light wasn’t good and my photo came out blurry. Maurice had seen another larger one of the same bright neon green color in the little shed where our pool filter is. I was thinking maybe it got stuck on the broom Maurice was using to clean the shed the day before. The cat didn’t bring it in as he is a total chicken heart and only is outside when we are. The frog did go up the side of the island in the kitchen with his sticky little feet so maybe he just came in an open door but I don’t know why he would. I escorted him outside with my broom and haven’t seen him since.

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 Sometimes there is nothing much going on around our village but the other day on my walk I ran into this guy with a dead rabbit. At first I thought he must have a trap somewhere but he told me that the rabbit had been hit by a car.

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 So in my bad French I asked him if he was going to eat it. He answered me but I’m not sure what he said but he pointed to the back leg area so I guess so. Don’t think I would.

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 Isn’t this drink a lovely color? Lisa of The Bold Soul brought it when she visited. It has a grapefruit flavor. It’s great to just look at in the glass too.

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 You see these cigales for sale all over Provence. Most of them have a hole on the top like a vase and you are supposed to put sprigs of wheat and lavender inside for good luck and prosperity. I have one on the wall on our porch but the mistral has blown away every attempt I have made to keep anything inside it. They are cute though.

 Some of you may have come back hoping to read chapter 2 of my “memoirs” of my life before France. I’m not sure if this is the venue for something like that but if you would like to read the rest, send me an email at lpennin104@aol.com and say book in the subject line and I will send you a chapter a week, sort of a serial like they used to do.

8 thoughts to “A Frog In The Kitchen”

  1. My FIL is very old-school and will often bring home road-kill to eat, especially rabbits or deer. It used to gross me out, but I guess I’ve gotten used to it now!

  2. Remember Pierre at the gite and the bird he had caged in his garage for future dinners? Poor thing.

    Where can this blue liquor be bought? It’s so pretty and sounds sooo good. Maybe you could bring a bottle when you visit? I’ll bring you a bottle of organic wine, something new I’ve been trying. Very tasty and no bad chemicals. I think the calories are still there tho. Darn.

    I can’t imagine eating road kill.

  3. The “cigales” would seem to be the same as “las cigarras” of the Spanish culture, the cicadas which sing all day long — and even louder and more elaborately when they are molting the larva case they are born in, or when they are dying. They are seen, I suppose, as indomitable and able to bring good fortune with their sheer will to prevail under all circumstances. For them to come up in the narrative now is a good omen for your book, no doubt!

  4. There’s an old Hitchcock film called “The Trouble With Harry”. The absolute best line comes from little Jerry Mathers (the Beaver). “You never know when a dead rabbit might come in handy. It’s already gotten me a blueberry muffin!”

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