So this dour young lady is Snowball, one of our resident turtles. Snowball generally hangs out 24/7 in the frog pond so this is a rare land sighting, even for one as eagle-eyed as yours truly The Gerret. Tweet suggested that Snowball must be headed somewhere to lay her eggs 'cause that's about the only thing that would get her to leave the pond, but I know better. Snowball's clearing out for a few weeks because she knows that it's almost time for the annual Frogapalooza at Frog Pond Farm. That scowl is her way of saying "get me outta here."
And what, you ask, is Frogapalooza? I'm glad you asked. When Stump and Tweet first moved here there was a pond, and it had a lot of frogs in it, so they named the place "Frog Pond Farm." Personally, The Gerret would have preferred "Dogpatch" but I wasn't around back then to make my case.
Anyway, Frog Pond Farm eventually got listed in all those little froggie tourist guide books, and featured on the froggie Internet and even had several hundred thousand froggie fans on Frogbook. And out of that grew Frogapalooza. Happens every year. First week in June. Every frog from here to Calaveras County comes to the Frog Pond, or at least it seems like it. You got your tree frogs, and your bullfrogs, and your green frogs and cricket frogs and barking frogs and peepers and chorus frogs and every whichever kind of frog. They all show up at the pond looking for a little bit of that froggie love.
It'll be pretty quiet during the day cause they're all sleeping it off, but once the sun goes down, those frogs start hollerin' and humpin' and they don't care who's listening or who's watching and they don't stop until the sun comes up in the morning. They're so loud you can't hear a cat fart from six inches away.
So this here is my sound and pictures documentary of Frogapalooza, just so you know what I'm talking about. If you're brave you'll plug your computer into your sound system and crank the volume up to like 12, because that's makin' it real.