When my cousin, Trey, was about 10 years old, she was cutting the grass and accidentally ran over a frog. Seeing frog guts spray from the mower upset her, so she went to tell her dad what had happened. Larry, having a tremendous sense of humor, listened to Trey's story then yelled, "Frog murderer!" She immediately burst into tears. This is another one of those family stories that get told over and over. Trey is now 45 years old and still the frog murderer.
Well, as of today, she is not alone!
The temperature in North Carolina was downright cold this morning. I had to wait until lunch time for it to be warm enough for me to head out. Since our fire pit was full of clippings, weeds and fallen limbs, I thought I would light it to make room for more limbs I would be cutting today. Everything in the pit was dry, so once the match was lit, flames filled the air.
I went about my chores of moving dirt, pulling grape vines off of fences, trimming low hanging branches and cutting the grass. When I returned to pile more on the fire pit, I found this...
I, too, am a frog murderer. I'm so sorry little frog! I didn't mean to kill you...and your little friend, too!
Okay, now that I have freaked you out with a cremated frog photo, have a look at my froggy birdbath. If these frogs were alive, they would be so happy!

