Larkin’s “Work Toad” is slowly, slip slopping his way towards me. With webbing and slime he makes his heavy, warty and unwanted way towards me, slowly, inexorably muttering bills, and health insurance and pension and taxes. And then plop! He is in my lap, heavy and inevitable. I wriggle, but there is no escape and we must share each other’s cold burden for another long year together.
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Cathy's real country garden 
Hope you’re not ‘turning over…failures/by some bed of lobelias.’ 🙂
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“Give me your arm old toad………”🐸
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I was unfamiliar with your the toad reference, had to look it up, and just finished reading the poem. There is always the alternative!
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One day.” Work toads” has a sequel “work toads revisited ” where Larkin resigns himself to work and almost seems to accept it. I am not there yet.
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I will have to find the sequel…
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Enjoyed this, Cathy — thank you–
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