My friend, Jan, wanted to have a good-bye drink with me but it took us weeks to find a day that I was home and not too busy with my work or my family. Last night she came to pick me up at about 9:00 pm to take me out for a drink. We had decided to go to a bar in a little village about 15 minutes from the farm. Halfway down our quarter mile driveway, I saw a frog leap in front of the car. Jan said, "Did you see that frog?"
"Did you hit it?" I replied.
"No, I saw it hop away," she said.
We continued on way, but the closer we got to the little town the more repulsive the air became. It was an overpowering stench. There is a chicken processing plant in the town, and when they render the chicken fat of a thousand chickens and open the vents on a humid summer night, the smell is something like urine and rot. We decided to head further down the road to the next little village.
There were two bars in this second village. The first had no cars, so we didn't stop there. At the second bar, we walked to the door and peeked in. A rush of cigarette smoke curled out of the door and settled thickly about our hair. A cardboard sign written in crayon and taped to the door warned, "This is a smoking bar." A dozen grizzly men shifted nothing but their eyes in our direction... "Nah," we said together, and returned to the car.
Back in the car, I had been telling my friend about this blog, '
Synchronicity,' and about the Edgar Allen Poe synchronicity, which I thought was a wonderful gruesome story. My friend, who is a psychic, was fascinated. She has dreams of murders and has helped police to find the criminals. She also has a
blog, but isn't quite ready to devote much time to it. She says that she will soon. "I had another murder dream recently," she told me, "I called the police but they didn't pay much attention to me."
About that time we arrived at another little bar. This one had 3 tables of men and women happily playing poker and no smoke, so we went in. I know that Jan told me where we were, some hollow, but I wasn't paying attention. We drank and told stories for about an hour. Jan kept writing post-it notes for me and stuck them in my pockets so that I would remember to write down the stories on my blog.
Up on the kitchen door behind the bar there was a snack menu with 'Froggy Balls' as a featured item. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I knew that Jan didn't want them so I resisted. About 5 minutes before the kitchen closed, I had to try some froggy balls. They were wonderful, deep fried cheese, chicken and jalapeno, no frogs. I ate them all. As I was munching away, I overheard someone talking about Frog's Hollow. That's it, that's where we were. Of course, they would have 'Froggy Balls' in Frog's Hollow.
I had a blast with Jan. That was the first time I've been out to a bar in more than two years. Jan returned me home safely and not too late.
Today, I took a walk down the driveway with my husband. He pointed out a dried smashed frog carcass and then the synchronicity struck me. I had forgotten all about the frog crossing our path when we went in search of a place to say goodbye.
