Winter at the door, brandy in my pocket.
Those little bastards are EVERYWHERE!It probably takes me an extra 1/2 hour to mow my lawn because I have to keep stopping to wait for these little froggy wannabe's to decide which way they want to hop to get out of the way. Of course, the preferred escape is into the high grass...which means I have to wait again on the next lap.They think the swimming pool is a real cement pond...congregate and sing bar tunes all night long. I can't sleep with a window open.Sometimes when I see some of the behavior of the furry critters around here, I think maybe they are the victim of all the hallucinogenic tryptamines those little hoppers leave all over the yard.
You have a swimming pool? Dang!Well H.B, if you can't beat 'em--join 'em. Maybe the furry critters are on to something (as well as "on something.") Avail yourself of the natural resources in your yard and see if that doesn't ease and embellish your perspective. Outsource the mowing to one of them grass-eating goats, which you will happily watch by the hour after you have availed yourself.Problem solved!