Frog in the Kitchen

21 July 2022

One of the joys of living in an old concrete block home in the country with occasional leaks in the basement has been the frog population. When my 8-bin worm farm lived downstairs in the coal room, the unfortunate fruit fly population boom increased the numbers of tiny “tree” frogs accordingly.

For quite a few years they’d sing from downstairs, and their choruses brought the family joy. Then we discovered the leak in the cistern room, got it fixed, and the singing stopped until last fall.

It resumed in our kitchen. Where I’d started a winter garden next to the south-facing plate glass window and brought in a spider plant that had spent the summer along the front walkway.

Over several weeks in the fall, the echo of croaking at such near proximity alerted us to the presence of not one, but three separate frogs. The first two croaky frogs were caught and relocated. One to the potted garden on the front walkway, and one to the basement bathroom. When the third one made himself known, we decided to let him stay and he got named Ribbert. After a month or so, he disappeared, and because we felt the void, Son-in-law brought one up from the basement.

That one turned out to be a silent frog. Dear Daughter instantly dubbed her Marceline. It was late winter before I’d finally had enough of frogs in our huge country kitchen (plus, the nearly unstoppable fungus gnat problem had finally subsided and I feared she’d starve to death). She got moved outside.