Today, I am going swimming with my friend and her son, and I’m sorely looking forward to it. I’ve spent a fair amount of time at home over the last few days.
In preperation for going swimming today, though, I decided to mow the lawn last night (I do it every Monday and Thursday, generally – and so often because it’s just a little spinny push mower and if you let the grass get long, it doesn’t cut it properly, and mulch looks terrible laying on top). It was a cool night, so pushing the mower around wasn’t a very big deal, and Rob came out to help do the clipping at the edges. We’re totally old school, so in addition to our reel mower, we use regular garden shears to do the edging. You know, they look like glorified, two handed scissors. Anyway, I’m too uncomfortable bent over like that, so Rob generally does the edges and the clipping after I mow.
So we were nearing done, when I hear Rob yell “A frog!” and when I looked over, sure enough, there was a frog jumping through our lawn. See, I’d love to boast that we keep such an awesome lawn that frogs just live there all the time, but the truth is… We don’t get a lot of frogs around here. It’s generally too dry. Sure, I’ve seen frogs at camp, but mostly in the meadow, which runs up to the lake, not in the middle of the city. So, either that poor frog was a long way from home, or we are having some serious water issues!
Anyway, I felt bad, as I denied Rob the pleasure of playing with the frog, opting to just let the little guy hop along and do what he wanted to (he was a pretty little frog, just over an inch long).
Otherwise – still no news. I’m doing what I can to help get this baby moving, but nothing seems to be working. She’s definitely going to come out when she’s good and ready, and not a moment before. ::sigh::