GET TO KNOW YOUR TOAD

At present I am driven to distraction by something under a bridge. No, not a troll. Although given some of the things you have read here, you might reasonably suspect that.

It's basil.


Which, inevitably, brings me to the subject of amphibians.


Every year for several years we would spend six weeks in Switzerland during the summer. For three years, we went a lovely hotel out in the countryside, somewhere in the German-speaking part. I do not remember the name, unfortunately.

When going uphill form that hotel, in the forest, I would discover all manner of fascinating creatures. A sleeping owl. A woodpecker (green feathers, a flash of red on the head, dark beady eyes). Various small evil furry things. With nasty teeth.
Plus frogs and toads.

The frogs were more brightly hued than the toads, and thus much more noticeable. But toads were much more satisfying.

Frogs are high-strung, and quiver when you carry them back to the hotel. Once you put them down, they look around with frightened eyes and make a flying leap to escape. Sometimes they will spring in the wrong direction, leading to howls from the ladies on the terrace.
And, while it is immensely entertaining when this happens, it means that recrimination will inevitably follow. So, not so good.

Toads, on the other hand, are gravid souls. Placid. Sensible. Remarkably composed.
When you set them on the table, they blink a bit, gaze around, and assess the situation.
If there is a laden tea-tray, they come over and investigate the table silver, then look speculatively at the jam-cookies.

I believe their natural curiosity and sense of smell subdue whatever disquiet they feel at the startlingly new situation they find themselves in.

Frogs are little hysterics, but toads are companionable.
Toads will stick around - you can get to know them, and give them names.
Always be on a first-name basis with your toads.

............................................

Today, for lunch, I had barbecued meat and imperial rolls over cold rice noodles on a bed of shredded lettuce and basil. Dash of hotsauce, a drenching of tamarind water. It's Vietnamese.

Lettuce presents a bright green leafy touch, basil is a darker duller colour and more aromatic.
A minute speck of basil leaf is currently stuck between the bridge and gum, irritating the crap out of me.

While I was eating, I particularly noticed the contrast between the frog-hued lettuce and the toad-like basil - the greenery was very fresh and crisp. If it had really been frogs and toads, the frogs would've leapt away in fright, vocalizing loudly. The toads, more likely than not, would've calmly taken up residence on my desk and my person (such as darnitall underneath the bridge connecting three teeth in the right-hand corner of my mouth), where they would now be awaiting new stimuli, with bright eyes and curious expressions, keeping quiet, quite certain that were food had passed, flies must soon follow.

Basil.

I think I'll name this "toad"; I can tell that he's gonna be around for a while.