Don't be a fish; be a frog!

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I recently took a phone call from one of the ringer's mums. Not quite sure whether she had dialed the right number, she asked "are you the new cook?" and I replied "I am the other half that came with the new cook, I am more the (kitchen's) helping hand". We then continued to have a lovely chat. She was kind enough to enquire whether we are settling in okay and then she asked "are there still frogs in the toilets?" 

Ha! I laughed out loud. I told her that almost every toilet we have cleaned on the station so far has come with a "froggy" surprise. Fortunately, they don't make themselves known while you are "in business" but once you proceed to the flushing part of your toilet visit, they jump or slip-and-slide into your vision. God knows how they get into the system in the first place, but once they are in there, they are hard to get out. This is not so much of a worry if they reside in the staff toilets. But when it comes to the two guest rooms available for visitors, contractors and random others, it would be preferable to present rooms without a resident amphibian.

So when the visit of some head office people was announced, I was challenged with the task of frog removal. Staring at the frog in the bowl, threatening toilet cleaner in hand, I pondered viable frog rescue solutions before proceeding with the cleaning. And a few moments later I returned with a large soup ladle from the kitchen:

frog rescue via soup ladle

It took a few attempts but eventually, he chose the wild card. I walked to the nearby river and released him into what seemed a more appropriate habitat. With a few herons, cormorants and pelicans closely watching, he took a leap (of faith) and dove into the muddy waters. As I walked back, I wondered about his likely or unlikely chance of survival. Then I googled quotes with frogs in them and found this one:

Don't be a fish; be a frog! - Swim in the water and jump when you hit the ground!

This seemed a matching metaphor for the first few weeks on the station. Just keep swimming (when in the deep end of the pool) and hit the ground running. 

And for a moment, I wished I was a frog. 




Comments

  1. FrancieSeptember 19, 2022 at 4:25 PM

    Reminds me of scooping the cane toads out of Auntie Annie's washing machine in Cairns - it sat outside under the carport. They always returned!

    ReplyDelete

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