Pink Frogs and Pointy Toes

no. 25

May 17, 2025

We have so many avocados. They are big and bright and green. We have to give some away—we can’t eat them all. The chickens look healthy again. Abuelita went out into the orchard and collected 11 eggs in her wide-brimmed hat! We scrambled them this morning. The yolks were a dazzling, sunshine yellow. I added chopped pieces of hot dog. The boys reached for the hot dog first, hardly touching the eggs. I sliced an avocado and gently sprinkled salt over the surface.

Leif found a small, exquisite, red strawberry in the garden. There are three strawberry plants, but I hadn’t known because they are tucked away on the back wall. He discovered it, washed it, and I took a picture. “Mmmm, delicious.”

I sat with Aida by the fire while she was preparing lunch. Abuelita and Abuelito were at a doctor’s appointment, Leifer was picking up Leif and Enzo from school, and Lucca was napping. We talked about Leifer’s papers and my upcoming departure to California. I told her how the boys struggled when Leifer was gone. Leif didn’t want to go to school—he wanted to stay with his family. It felt like he was keeping his eyes on everyone so no one else would disappear, like Leifer did. Aida said it’s not the same over the phone—the boys need to be with their father in person. She told me she would miss Lucca. We joke that Lucca is now Peruano. As we talked, we ate strawberry Jell-O layered with lúcuma flan. I’m amazed at how much Aida understands my Spanish, especially since I’ve put in very little effort to improve. I find it easy to talk with her. Aida said she’ll miss us when we return to California—especially little Lucca, who’s home at the casita all day. Tears welled in my eyes; I will be sad to leave.

Later, I sat with Abuelita. We ate popcorn while waiting for the water to boil for the rice. I told her that Leif has the same big toe as Leifer. I wanted to tell her how we saw that same pointy toe during my mammogram when I was pregnant, but I wasn’t sure how to explain that in Spanish. All my boys have that toe. Tía Hilda pointed it out one day.

Enzo tells me stories most days. I wonder if they come from dreams or his imagination. “A pink frog,” he says. “It’s behind you. As big as a chicken! The frog jumps higher than an eagle”—he raises his arms to show me. I hope he keeps telling me stories.

After lunch, the boys, Leifer, and I sit at the table. Leif has a notebook where his teacher writes directions at the top of each page. He practices letters, numbers, and words. Enzo has worksheets where he colors objects and identifies what is abajo and arriba. I pull out my Spanish flashcards to practice vocabulary.

My dad left coffee beans behind. They sit on the counter, taunting me. Leifer promises we’ll get a grinder, but I know another way—the batan. There are two batans at the casita. I avoid the one used for spicy peppers. Aida wipes off the surface and the rock before I begin. I pour out some of the beans—“Just a little,” Aida says. I start slowly. Some of the beans jump off the rock. Leif wants to try. Together, we lift the batan, rocking it back and forth. I scoop the beans back to the center and try again. I enjoy this work. I am creating something. Abuelita walks over and shows me how to swirl my fingers through the beans—it helps with the grinding. Leif takes a video of our work. He giggles as we scoop the grounds into a bowl to transfer back into the bag.