Thursday, March 27, 2008


I love winter in Minnesota, really, I do. Until March. Then, even those of us born here are quite tired of the cold and snow. I relish spring, rain, and grass: green, lush grass to tickle my toes. So when spring really does come, and the mud comes along with it, I am not quite satisfied. Somehow in the year since the last spring, I've forgotten that mud must come before spring.
So, spring came (if only for a couple of days. We had a snowstorm on Easter weekend that left us right where we had started in the snow coverage department). The kids went out to play and like true children, made a beeline for the mud puddles. I didn't watch them. Maybe if I had, I could have stopped them, but I doubt it. Maybe if I had, I'd appreciate how much they enjoyed themselves.
But as it was, all I saw was the result. The mess. The mud. They know the rule about coming in from playing in the mud. They strip down to their undies outside, and come in shivering and laughing. (Our nearest neighbor is a mile away, my modest friends!) Thankfully they followed my rule. Somehow, though, they still came in with their naked bodies smeared in mud! ACKKK! Here is part of the result:

I bagged the mud caked coats and clothes and carried them gingerly upstairs to the washer. The whole load had to be washed twice. The kids had to stay in the kitchen, on the lynoleum, until they cleaned up themselves and their trail of mud. Now for the boots. What do I do with mud caked boots when I don't have a utility sink and it is too cold to use a hose? Well, I just left them there, and I'm waiting for the mud to dry so it will come off in chunks of dried dirt! The key is to time it just right so the boots can come in before it starts to rain and the boots become muddy again. Then the rain will wash the muddy sidewalk and we'll start all over again. --Never mind relishing spring. I just want summer!

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