“Jeremiah was a bullfrog…was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said.
But I helped him a-drink his wine. And he always had some mighty fine wine. Singin’ joy to the world, all the boys and girls now. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea… joy to you and me.” Lyrics excerpted from “Joy to the World” by the American rock band Three Dog Night circa 1970.
Per the title, that song choice may be confusing and a bit misleading. Seeing as how Jerimiah was not a “hop-toad” and there will be no mention of “bullfrogs” in this article. Except for just now… and the song intro.
Tragically there are no well renowned songs about hop-toads. So that classic hippy-dippy diddy will suffice. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, aren’t frogs and toads basically the same thing? Actually, NO they are not, protests every biologist and Animal Planet aficionado. Would assuming such be considered racist? Sincerest apologies to any alcoholic amphibians who may be reading this. Now let us leap-toad and hop-frog onward.
Spring has sprung! (Actually, it sprang about a month ago, but I’m a busy guy and wasn’t paying much attention- with all the streaming services available who has time for all those seasons?) Our world took a deep breath and renewed itself with lush green majesty. And for the first two weeks we oohed and aahed, as the land all round sprung back to life. Then as the splendor of spring uncoiled, spread and grew, we seek to cut, control and kill it. Lest we suffer natural burial.
Flowers must be put to bed. Weeds rounded-up. Bushes rounded down. Bugs sprayed. Birds fed. Trees trimmed. And of course, that one task that will mercilessly resurface and continue to be tended till the fall- the grass must be cut… again and again.
Monotonous though it may be, there is some satisfaction to be found in a fresh-cut lawn. Some even find it relaxing. And it can in fact be a way to connect to nature while you’re butchering it.
Why just the other day whilst mowing perchance I came across a yellow-jackets nest that had surged above ground level. Halting the mower, cautiously approaching, taking a knee. “Who goes there?” buzzed the bee-guards. “Tis but I, the humble groundskeeper,” was my reply. “Seeking audience with your illustrious queen.” And though not on the visitors list and without a scheduled appointment, the queen soon cordially appeared.
Hand in bee-hand thingie we toured the grounds of our adjoined kingdoms. As the keeper I informed the queen of the perils of her hive’s current location in comparison to mine own lawn caring endeavors. Over some honey tea, peace talks ensued, bond made. Treaties signed and an assisted relocation was planned.
Actually, I unknowingly ran all up on them and they swarmed. Thanks to the grace of gawd, cat like reflexes and ninja skills, much stinging was evaded. As I blindly drove the borrowed zero-turn into the brush, slapping myself silly and squealing like a girl.
Thus, upon my finished presentation of mowing, Lil’ Red (my petite sweet) excused the strip of jacketed un-mowed lawn… and destroyed hedge. However, she was somewhat perplexed that the trim around the house remained untouched. Ah my love, twas the valiant retreat of the hop-toad-guys that thwarted that endeavor.
When lawn-jockeying if you’ve ever paid attention (and if you’ve never, you should) you’ll have no doubt noticed the wildlife scurrying away from your mowers’ path. Among these fleeing lawn-care refugees you may have noted some hop-toad-guys.
DO NOT run them over. Give them ample time to escape. Or perhaps pause your mower to relocate them to an already mowed section, garden or flowerbed. Why? Well first of all it’s kind of cruel and messy to mow over living things. Second, hop-toad-guys are like little warty garden assistants. They devour a lot of those bugs that bug and bite you, as well as those that destroy your foliage. Saving you money and time on bug spray and replanting damaged vegetation.
Ergo they are beneficial and in addition require zero maintenance. Of course, if you want to invite and accommodate them half buried (or broken halves) of flowerpots make great refuges and give them a place to go when you mow.
I welcome almost all questions, comments via Focus, or E-mail me at [email protected]. Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused! See ya.
