Boiled Frog

The other day I introduced one of my students to the idea of the boiled frog in reference to my husband. We all know that charming little story about sticking a frog in cool water and heating it slowly. Apparently this isn't of those things thats carried over to japan. She listened with fascination and then asked me if its really true or not, which I have to admit, I don't know. Considering riveting all the things scientists have discovered lately (like men don't really understand women) I wouldn't be surprised if someone has actually tried it. So if anyone knows one way or another I'd love you to tell me.

But anyway, as I got up this morning and opened my fridge the smell of Godiva coffee wafted deliciously over me and my husband sat on the floor in the living room in front of his lap top smelling faintly of slightly poached frog (metaphorically of course).

You see I'm trying to introduce him to the idea of honest to god hiking. Its apparently unheard of in this city. I've seen maps of hiking courses that lead you to a leisurely stroll along the side of a crowded road with shops leaning heavily against your shoulder on the other side. So I started my sweet little city boy off with gently sloping mountain roads some time back and were working our way up to trails made of dirt.

Yesterday I said lets go hiking and considering everything else is way to crowded on Golden Week, he agreed. I let him pick the place and he chose a trail sight unseen. It started off behind a somewhat crowded fair and headed strait up. REALLY up. There were places that I was pulling myself up by trees. It continued like that almost uninterrupted for about twenty five minutes, where my husband stopped mopping sweat off his face and breathing very hard. "Lets go back." he said it with a smile but. . . I could see there was something behind it. "I'm sure it will get better soon." I coaxed. So we started off again. We were walking along something that was halfway between a waterfall and a creak. It got very rocky in places. After about five more minutes he stopped again. "Lets go back." his suggestion got more emphatic. Begging and negotiating got him another five minutes along. "I'm serious, lets go back, this is impossible." I tried walking VERY slowly. I tried being encouraging. There were a few more stops along the way each getting longer and each time he seemed more convinced he didn't want to go on. Finally I said I'll walk ahead and see if it seems to flatten out. I clamored up the trail for four or five minutes more where I found several middle old ladies resting on their way down and a sign that said something like 70 more minutes steeply up hill. I got my husband right about up to that sign and then he insisted finally and firmly that we go back. I can see my frog needs a good deal more boiling.

I have to admit I didn't see anyone else headed up the trail. So he may have had something of a point. It was really pretty hiking though while it lasted. I wish I'd taken some pictures but. . . well. . . I didn't.