Its one of those things I don’t tell anyone from Calaveras County, especially anyone I know from Angels Camp, the frog jumping capitol of the world. If the Chamber of Commerce finds out about my past, I’ll be run out of town on a rail.As kids, we all caught frogs in the creek that ran by our place, and butchered them for their tasty legs. Pat’s mother wouldn’t cook them, but my mother would. Was it serendipity that I found frog legs for sale in Angels Camp? I couldn’t resist. We had a farewell dinner of frog legs, and they were just as delicious as we remembered them.
We toasted this gathering of childhood friends, after 60 years of no contact, and marveled at our good fortune to have found each other. We shared treasured memories, made joyful new memories and will never again let the years pile up before we see each other again.Our visit ended, but some friendships, we discovered, are forever.
Que Sera, Sera... Whatever Will Be, Will Be... 