What a beautiful gift, that pond but also the life lived near nature - and the frog sketch is so lovely! 🐸🪷 So enjoying the evolution of your art book, too.
Happy sigh. I have similar memories. (In Australia, wellies are known as ‘gumboots’.) I adored tadpoles. And I adore your art. So beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing. 🤗🤗😘😘
Love this post as it had me back in the land of childhood memories, too, of growing up with a giant maple tree woods with pond right behind my home, the very best place to explore. Your childhood sounds so lovely and idyllic. Where can I buy your book? "You want it, you carry it" is perfect: for the library, the grocery, the thrift store, walks! Read this one while drinking my morning coffee. Your art is beautiful.
One of my fondest memories of being a dad is taking my young kids out to the swamp to get frogspawn for them to take into class for science. Lovely story, as usual.
My parents’ house backs onto a rather rocky, wild ditch. No tadpoles there, though. But my elementary school backed into a marsh, and many a happy lunch hour was spent catching tadpoles and avoiding the summons of teachers to get out of the marsh and the woods. Glorious days!
After I finished reading this beaut I was searching for the “love” button. Wait, that sounds dirty. But you know what I mean. You’ve sent me hurtling back in time, and taught me a word (frogspawn) that eclipses the poor tools we were using to describe same, in southern Connecticut (frogs eggs--how pedestrian). (Not sure I prefer the German, actually, which--as usual--sounds like a curse.) But oh those childhood rambles, the mystery of a life outside, the dizzying life cycles, the dear parents who offer it up, saying “look how amazing all this is!” And “we’ll put the frogspawn in your welly!” A parent can’t do better for a child than that.
What a fun story to read this morning. And I love "if you want it, you carry it." It brought up memories of hunting for frogs in the pond behind my childhood farm. Always so much fun to spot and then even better catch one. :) Have a great weekend Rebecca.
You have sparked memories of explorations of the pond near my childhood home. Yes, it is fascinating to see the evolution of the tadpoles from little "commas" to full amphibian and your artwork details it beautifully. Did you have turtles? our pond was loaded with painted turtles and the occasional fearsome Snapping turtle. Do you have snapping turtles in the UK?
Oh my goodness, you are reminding me of my own childhood memories, tadpoles, what excitement they held for us! And I have a very old memory of going frogging with my dad, in the early morning hours when it was still dark out, or at least that's how I remember it. I don't remember having those cool boots, but I did have some type of rain boot which I would wear when my girlfriend and I would walk/stomp in the gutters up and down the streets. These activities would keep us all busy for hours. How lucky were we to grow up in such a simple time. Thanks, Rebecca, for sharing these stories. And I LOVE your artwork! 💜
Your stories, Rebecca, read like a favorite song. Your cherished memories become my cherished memories for a time -- they make me remember things I've never even experienced! I re-stacked this lovely piece with these comments this morning.
About the wellies (called gumboots here) but especially the taddies.
My early life l;ike yours was filled with the charm of tadpoles and frogs and we spent much time with huge jars filled with spawn which was tipped back into wetlands as soon as the legs appeared. I also loved finding frogs in my grandmother's garden, tiny creamy-coloured things with a black dorsal stripe. But the lovely swampy public area where we used to find frogs and spawn has now been developed (I hate society some times) and I think of all those future frogs whose home was decimated.
Fortunatley, not far from that bogland, my friends huge garden has been very damp with La Nina over the last three years and for the last three years it's boomed and warbled with many frogs. A good sign. The same on our farm, which over six or seven years of drought had become very quiet but within months of the Big Wet, had become a frogland orchestra again. I love that nature can bounce back if given a chance.
You always spark memories for me, Rebecca. I'm grateful. XXXX
I had to laugh at your welly being used for the frogspawn. I'm sure as a kid, you were very upset about that. Here you have some welly's that you cherish and now they're being used for a purpose they are not intended for.
I like your artwork. Great job!
I have a frog story but it's not from a pond. When I lived in my house, I had a section of the front lawn that had plants surrounded by railroad ties. There was red mulch put down over the whole area. One day, some of the mulch was moved. I thought I saw a small piece of garbage that had been blown over to the spot. I leaned down to grab it when I hesitated. It was not garbage. It had eyes. It was a large frog. I'm glad I didn't put my hand down there. I probably would have jumped and maybe screamed or yelled. 🤣
Very delightful. We have lugworms in our tiny pond (identified by E), and what amazes me is: how do they (or rather their parents) know it's there?
What an absolute gift to have grown up in such proximity to nature! And those baby tadpoles!! Love your drawings, as always!
What a beautiful gift, that pond but also the life lived near nature - and the frog sketch is so lovely! 🐸🪷 So enjoying the evolution of your art book, too.
A treasure, Rebecca, as always.
Happy sigh. I have similar memories. (In Australia, wellies are known as ‘gumboots’.) I adored tadpoles. And I adore your art. So beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing. 🤗🤗😘😘
Love this post as it had me back in the land of childhood memories, too, of growing up with a giant maple tree woods with pond right behind my home, the very best place to explore. Your childhood sounds so lovely and idyllic. Where can I buy your book? "You want it, you carry it" is perfect: for the library, the grocery, the thrift store, walks! Read this one while drinking my morning coffee. Your art is beautiful.
One of my fondest memories of being a dad is taking my young kids out to the swamp to get frogspawn for them to take into class for science. Lovely story, as usual.
My parents’ house backs onto a rather rocky, wild ditch. No tadpoles there, though. But my elementary school backed into a marsh, and many a happy lunch hour was spent catching tadpoles and avoiding the summons of teachers to get out of the marsh and the woods. Glorious days!
After I finished reading this beaut I was searching for the “love” button. Wait, that sounds dirty. But you know what I mean. You’ve sent me hurtling back in time, and taught me a word (frogspawn) that eclipses the poor tools we were using to describe same, in southern Connecticut (frogs eggs--how pedestrian). (Not sure I prefer the German, actually, which--as usual--sounds like a curse.) But oh those childhood rambles, the mystery of a life outside, the dizzying life cycles, the dear parents who offer it up, saying “look how amazing all this is!” And “we’ll put the frogspawn in your welly!” A parent can’t do better for a child than that.
What a fun story to read this morning. And I love "if you want it, you carry it." It brought up memories of hunting for frogs in the pond behind my childhood farm. Always so much fun to spot and then even better catch one. :) Have a great weekend Rebecca.
You have sparked memories of explorations of the pond near my childhood home. Yes, it is fascinating to see the evolution of the tadpoles from little "commas" to full amphibian and your artwork details it beautifully. Did you have turtles? our pond was loaded with painted turtles and the occasional fearsome Snapping turtle. Do you have snapping turtles in the UK?
Oh my goodness, you are reminding me of my own childhood memories, tadpoles, what excitement they held for us! And I have a very old memory of going frogging with my dad, in the early morning hours when it was still dark out, or at least that's how I remember it. I don't remember having those cool boots, but I did have some type of rain boot which I would wear when my girlfriend and I would walk/stomp in the gutters up and down the streets. These activities would keep us all busy for hours. How lucky were we to grow up in such a simple time. Thanks, Rebecca, for sharing these stories. And I LOVE your artwork! 💜
Your stories, Rebecca, read like a favorite song. Your cherished memories become my cherished memories for a time -- they make me remember things I've never even experienced! I re-stacked this lovely piece with these comments this morning.
Wonderful story.
About the wellies (called gumboots here) but especially the taddies.
My early life l;ike yours was filled with the charm of tadpoles and frogs and we spent much time with huge jars filled with spawn which was tipped back into wetlands as soon as the legs appeared. I also loved finding frogs in my grandmother's garden, tiny creamy-coloured things with a black dorsal stripe. But the lovely swampy public area where we used to find frogs and spawn has now been developed (I hate society some times) and I think of all those future frogs whose home was decimated.
Fortunatley, not far from that bogland, my friends huge garden has been very damp with La Nina over the last three years and for the last three years it's boomed and warbled with many frogs. A good sign. The same on our farm, which over six or seven years of drought had become very quiet but within months of the Big Wet, had become a frogland orchestra again. I love that nature can bounce back if given a chance.
You always spark memories for me, Rebecca. I'm grateful. XXXX
Absolutely wonderful newsletter!! Thank you!!!!
Great story Rebecca!
I had to laugh at your welly being used for the frogspawn. I'm sure as a kid, you were very upset about that. Here you have some welly's that you cherish and now they're being used for a purpose they are not intended for.
I like your artwork. Great job!
I have a frog story but it's not from a pond. When I lived in my house, I had a section of the front lawn that had plants surrounded by railroad ties. There was red mulch put down over the whole area. One day, some of the mulch was moved. I thought I saw a small piece of garbage that had been blown over to the spot. I leaned down to grab it when I hesitated. It was not garbage. It had eyes. It was a large frog. I'm glad I didn't put my hand down there. I probably would have jumped and maybe screamed or yelled. 🤣