This is my husband's favorite outside plant container. Well, maybe he likes his strawberry pot just a bit more. Every year he takes a long while to find just the right plant for Froggy–and sometimes he never finds one. It must have been pretty late in the season when he found last year's plant, because it was still vibrant when we were putting all the pots away for the season, so I brought Froggy inside for the winter. I don't know what the plant is, but it now resembles the fuzzy mullet of an aging rock star. Somehow Froggy's foot/leg/arm got broken, which makes watering a problem, but he looks happy perching over my kitchen sink, in spite of all the snow outside.
So when Spring comes—and it will come—Froggy will once again perch on the picnic table watching us eat hamburgers and potato salad. I can't wait.
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