After reading your delightfully weaved story, I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs. He would take off at night on a hunting venture, with a twinkle in his eyes while holding a frog geiger in his hand!
Though i’ve had my fair share of culinary adventures, frog legs have yet to be among them. Maybe someday. And if it included such hospitality as this, I’d be in heaven.
Another great chapter David! Makes me think of my dad and his affinity for frog legs, and meals at my uncle's table in the mountains of western NC. Wild game was a frequent main course. Don't know for a fact that I had frogs legs, but it was very possible...crawdads were a delicacy in that area as well.
Always a pleasure to find a note from you, Frank. Thank you, once again for making time to offer such encouragement. And yes, mudbugs/crawdads. I'll take a dozen, please.
I grew up in the ‘50’s in California eating frog legs that my father and his family gigged. I ate a lot of different animals that my hunted to supplement our food. We were considered poor although I never knew or felt that at the time.
Now I have been eating less and less meat since my compassion for all living beings has evolved and I plan one day soon to completely stop.
My husband is not on board with this, but he may have to or learn to cook for himself. 😊
Thanks for this article. It did bring back great memories of my childhood and family memories of helping each other.
Very pleasing story. First time I was introduced to frog legs uncles told not to eat too many or they’d make me jumpy. Haha. Then later received similar wit for my first squirrel dinner. Despite my uncles’ ribbing I discovered eating critters (but not groundhog) was pretty darn good.
I have always aspired to be one of 'those' uncles, myself. Uncle jokes are kinda like dad jokes, but you can sometimes sneak in a cuss word, cuz you aren't their dad.
Trying to get my head around eating groundhog, ouch.
You write really well. I am learning a lot about the development of masculinity in the south. I am somewhat out of my depth as the western girl, Massachusetts transplant, squeamish and non-violent person I have been, but I like to open new worlds.
As for that Southern masculinity thing... uhhhhh, yeah. I'm mostly grateful, now, that I was booted and came back to the West. There were undercurrents there in the deeps that I never could quite understand. I always felt a little mystified and peripheral. But damn it was a fascinating place to learn...
After reading your delightfully weaved story, I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs. He would take off at night on a hunting venture, with a twinkle in his eyes while holding a frog geiger in his hand!
"...I closed my eyes and remembered listening to croaking MS frogs at night and how much Grandpa liked to eat frog legs."
There's an entire universe in that one sentence.
PS: (gigger)
Fabulous writing. Really draws in the reader. A world I don’t know brought to vivid life. That’s what reading is all about!
Thank you for the kindness of making time, for offering such encouragement.
The words deserve it 💛✍️💛
Beautiful—as always. And the audio is fantastic.
Though i’ve had my fair share of culinary adventures, frog legs have yet to be among them. Maybe someday. And if it included such hospitality as this, I’d be in heaven.
My road warrior friend, your generous notes are a gift. Thank you.
Yes, the hospitality. There is where the magic really lies. As I know you know.
May your taste buds dance with a froggy one day in the company of kind souls.
Road warrior! (blushes)
Another great chapter David! Makes me think of my dad and his affinity for frog legs, and meals at my uncle's table in the mountains of western NC. Wild game was a frequent main course. Don't know for a fact that I had frogs legs, but it was very possible...crawdads were a delicacy in that area as well.
Always a pleasure to find a note from you, Frank. Thank you, once again for making time to offer such encouragement. And yes, mudbugs/crawdads. I'll take a dozen, please.
Nice accent!
Thanks, pal.
Does it come anywhere close to the one you imagined as you were reading some of these stories finding their way onto the page all those years ago?
I grew up in the ‘50’s in California eating frog legs that my father and his family gigged. I ate a lot of different animals that my hunted to supplement our food. We were considered poor although I never knew or felt that at the time.
Now I have been eating less and less meat since my compassion for all living beings has evolved and I plan one day soon to completely stop.
My husband is not on board with this, but he may have to or learn to cook for himself. 😊
Thanks for this article. It did bring back great memories of my childhood and family memories of helping each other.
Vickie, what a fascinating glimpse. Thank you.
Funny, those looks back to humbler beginnings. We ate quite a bit of venison when I was little. Same thing... supplementing our food supply.
Your family sounds cool.
Very pleasing story. First time I was introduced to frog legs uncles told not to eat too many or they’d make me jumpy. Haha. Then later received similar wit for my first squirrel dinner. Despite my uncles’ ribbing I discovered eating critters (but not groundhog) was pretty darn good.
Heh, heh, heh...
I have always aspired to be one of 'those' uncles, myself. Uncle jokes are kinda like dad jokes, but you can sometimes sneak in a cuss word, cuz you aren't their dad.
Trying to get my head around eating groundhog, ouch.
You write really well. I am learning a lot about the development of masculinity in the south. I am somewhat out of my depth as the western girl, Massachusetts transplant, squeamish and non-violent person I have been, but I like to open new worlds.
Mare, thank you for such kind words.
As for that Southern masculinity thing... uhhhhh, yeah. I'm mostly grateful, now, that I was booted and came back to the West. There were undercurrents there in the deeps that I never could quite understand. I always felt a little mystified and peripheral. But damn it was a fascinating place to learn...