I collect froggies. Carved stone froggies, glass froggies, beanie-frogs, you
name it. Last year, a friend who knows of my amphibious fixation gave me as a
gift a giant stuffed froggie one night at karaoke, as thanks for setting her
up with a guy we mutually know. We had a blast: I danced with this frog's
long legs around me, we made him a crown in honor of his princely aspirations,
and took him home--he needed a seat belt, he's so big--and dubbed him, for
some unknown reason, Lester. Lester took up a place of honor on our sofa, and
one of the Ladies has decided to claim him as a permanent Suitor.

Sabrina has been spending more and more time outside the bedroom as her
barriers break and she learns to trust more. And she has been spending them
curled up with Lester. He's made so that his legs curl into a sort of cross-
legged yogi pose, and she has been spending the past several days curled up
with her frog prince, right in his lap. If I could only get a picture, but
she's so camera shy she runs the minute I come near, drat it!

Blessed be,
Baha