Marie Laveau and The Lonesome Horny Toads

It's rained so much in the holler, that my evening strolls between RV and trailer are getting a little treacherous. Aside from the deepening puddles that are popping up all along my trail, there are also a growing number of frogs, which sound like they gotta be the size of a goat, echoing their gruesome love songs in to the night air.

Just the other night, I was telling a friend how I thought my little holler was gradually "going back to nature," to it's previous swampy state and how I distracted myself on my nightly tiptoeing through the bog by humming the few bars of an old song I remembered bits and pieces of about an old swamp witch. I was pretty sure it was by Jim Stafford.

Come to find out, there is a song called Swamp Witch by Jim Stafford (who, by the way, is still going strong in Branson, MO) but after finding the track online, I realized that wasn't it.

It was actually Bobby Bare and this was the song:




That'll get your toes to tapping.

We'll talk again soon. Later Taters!

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