Mud

I hate mud. I have always hated mud. It grosses me out.

When I was a little girl and mom would take me to the beach, I would squat above the sand, never sitting in it because I HATED sand in my bathing suit. Eww. Meanwhile, my sister would be shoveling sand into her bathing suit and begging us to bury her up to her neck. My nightmare!

During the summer, at church day camp, Friday was always the day for something fun. Mini-golf, waterpark, sliding down grass hills on ice blocks - all awesome activities, all fun. But every summer, at least once, we would end up going to mud park. Mud Park. A whole park of mud. Everyone would wear their oldest clothes. Roll in the stinky mud pits, raft across the murky mud lake, ride down the mud slide into the mud lake. It was my personal version of hell. And when the bus arrived back at the church for our parents to pick us up, I was the only kid who got off the bus looking (and smelling) sparkling clean. My sister was usually one of the dirtiest kids to get off the bus. Who's surprised?

Since all of the snow around here has (mostly) melted, we've been living in Mud City for four days. It's nasty.

Fortunately, as of today, it's dried out enough that I can get around most places I need to go while avoiding the mud.

But it's snowing again. And more snow means more mud!

I never thought I'd say this - but I'm sick of the snow. I'm ready for spring!

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Today, working inside of the greenhouse, a fat little robin red-breast landed in the outdoor garden. I only knew he was there because Indy was desperate to get out and try to catch him. Indy was very disappointed. I kept Indy in and continued to watch the fat little Robin strut around. I felt like Mary in THE SECRET GARDEN (should I mention that I've read that book many, many times?), waiting for the Robin to show me how to bring the garden back to life. All I need now is someone to play Dicken. I guess that could be Indy or Jason - but neither of them is really interested in gardening. But I could pretend. :) Probably Indy, since he spends the whole day with me. He'll have to work on that rough English accent. Can you bark in an English dialect?

I sure hope the fat little Robin comes back. :) I'll try to get a picture of him if I can!