He's backkkkkkkk . . .

The other day, to say it rained would be an understatement. It poured buckets. Four inches total. All of the outside beasties took shelter except for the frogs who were already in their safe place . . . or so they thought. As their homes flooded and they frantically placed calls to FEMA, 911 and the Red Cross . . . they fled to higher ground. Much higher ground it seems, because this is what the 9TS dragged me downstairs to see:



Now looks can be deceiving and this little guy ain't so little. He's about the size of my hand. And if you are a faithful and fastidious reader, you will remember, I auditioned for the part of the man-hand object of Seinfeld's derision . . . He was HUGE!!!

Lighting being miserable at night, I scampered outside, dodging his relatives populating the driveway and took another shot.



Am I bound to all eternity to be plagued by this guy and his per stirpes? I pray not!