Somewhere between Virginia and North Carolina: Find slips of her wit igniting weeds between the concrete slabs of the city sidewalk or in the worm-hooked smirk of a crow in the Blue Ridge sky. Her poetry chapbook Between Blue and Grey (Amazon, 2012) won the Barnhills Books & More: Mothervine Festival Award for Best in Poetry in 2013. Her writing has been featured in such publications as Thrush Press, Moon Books, Moonchild Magazine, Pedestal Magazine and VQR's Instaseries. Follow her @tifchaney on Instagram and visit sassafrassoothsayer.com for more wyrdness.

It starts with a tell-tale THUD... 🐸

Every three generations, give or take, frogs fall across Blacklick, Virginia. You won’t hear folks talk about them much, because they’re so few and far between these days.

When they do talk, folks say these frogs have properties. From charming a man to killing a man, women would cook up spells and the men, being men, would eat.

As you know, southerners eat some strange things. Get a special recipe for frog legs from this new American oral history folk tale. 👩‍🍳

Kester Stoot, recently reported missing 👀, relates the oral tale to us as he first experienced the phenomenon of falling frogs.

He says that folks would shovel them up, bury the bodies and burn them in droves, but the frogs kept falling. His last words to us may give us a clue as to how to stop the deluge, due to fall soon.