My Lovely Mud

My Lovely Mud

When I was a kid I used to love to play in the mud. I would collect old stray containers, empty butter tubs, old pie tins, any thing that could be used to form the mud into different gourmet delicacies' of dirt. All of this had to be done in secret, if I was ever caught playing in mud or with mud, mom would kill me! Usually I would go way out back on a rock in the woods with my tools, after a rainfall when the mud would be plentiful.

These would not be any old mud pies, there would be wild onions, scallions and any available flower or fauna in bloom at the time used to season my creations. I would sit there on my rock serving meals, making dirt dishes for hours. When I went back to the house my mother would be furious, wondering how I could possibly get so dirty. All her friends little girls 7 or 8 years old and they would be sparkling clean with cute little pig tails and white socks. I was a crusty mess, torn pants, cuts, bruises and scrapes, covered head to toe in my lovely mud. My mother would throw my clothes out and of course I would get a beating but it was worth it!

All those bitter sweet, dirty memories came back to me as I look out my back door, watching the ducks diving through the mud. How could I have loved something that I hate so much now? Those ducks were diving; running in circles, splattering mud and muddy water wildly in the air, they are having a grand time. They love the rain and the mud it brings to life.

Suddenly I'm tempted to get out my plastic containers and old pie tins, go pick some flowers, chives, garlic scapes and create a muddy delicacy for my husbands' dinner. I could join the ducks and share their innocent joy of frolicking in the mud. How long do you think it would take before Bruce has me hauled away or the neighbors call the paramedics? Look the lady next door has finally snapped. Not to mention all the bird poop mixed in with that mud.

I've decided to be a sideline spectator, let the ducks have their fun amongst themselves. Watching them gives me the opportunity to experience their joy that is good enough for me. Someday though I may be tempted again to join them and I just might do it.