Appalachian Word of the Week -- GIGGIN'

Do you know what GIGGIN' is? Have you ever been?

GIGGIN' was a favorite pastime for my dad when the weather was right. He pulled on his waders, grabbed his can of carbide to put in his miner's cap, grabbed his GIGGIN' pole, and went hunting.

You may be asking what he went hunting for. Bullfrogs, of course. One of the delicacies we enjoyed in Appalachia was fried frog legs. The bigger the bullfrog, the legs. And yes, they tasted a bit like chicken.

Frog GIGGIN' pole

I remember those nights my daddy went out GIGGIN' and he came home with a large bucket full of bullfrogs. I knew we'd have a mess of frog legs for dinner the next night.

Now, when I was a little kid, I loved frogs. I searched the mountain side behind our house for frogs of every size. I played with them, even though my mom said they would give me warts. I never had a wart, by the way.

My biggest joy in life was finding a nice juicy frog, putting it into my shiny black pocketbook and taunting the boys. I offered to show them what I had inside and when they got really close, I'd open my pocketbook and show them my frog. I laughed at the boys who jumped back and let out a yelp. One of the worst was my uncle Jerry. He was a sailor and supposed to be a tough guy, but when I sprung my frog on him, he yelped like a girl and ran away.

Playing with a bullfrog

Apparently, Mom and Dad bored of my games because one night when Daddy went GIGGIN' he managed to catch a huge bullfrog without having to GIG it.

He put it in the bucket with the GIGGED ones and brought it home. The next morning he told me he had a surprise for me. Daddy thought he was being so smart. As Mom looked on, he told me to get close to the frog bucket, which was really an oversized fish bucket with a lid. Just as I leaned over, he flipped open the lid to reveal the giant bullfrog.

Bucket for collecting frogs while GIGGIN'

I squealed. Not because I was scared, but because I was thrilled! Before you knew it, I had that Goliath out of the bucket, tied a string around its neck (or as close to a neck as it had) and commenced hopping him throughout the house.

Right about then, Mom and Dad shook their heads and probably wished Daddy had GIGGED that bullfrog.

So, did you ever go GIGGIN'? Did your dad? Have you ever dined on fried frog legs? And did you know frog legs jump when you fry them?