February 10, 2010
When we were in a very bad drought a few years ago, I vowed I would never again complain about mud. So read this in a "not-complaining tone of voice" because I am not complaining, I'm just reporting the news.
The mud is bad.
The good thing about living on a hill is that the top of the hill isn't too bad. The goats are at the top of the hill. The bad thing about living on a hill is that the mud at the bottom of the hill is really really deep. I'm thankful that I replaced my holey rubber boots before winter arrived.
Footsteps (and hoofprints) in the deep mud are filled with standing water. Walking is an adventure. I slip and slide across the slippery clay mud. Don't stop! If I do, it's hard to get moving again. The mud intends to suck those boots right off my feet.
This is when you can really see what kind of soil you have: the mud over there is grey but the little spot of orange mud over here reminds me that we do indeed live in Oklahoma.
Living on a homestead means that there are some added ingredients in the mud. A friend of ours calls it "mystery mud". I'll give you a hint: mystery mud exists in the horse pasture.
Monday it rained again. Another storm is expected on Thursday. More mud. Will the horses ever be clean again? I looked at photos the other day of our daughter at a horse show in October. My goodness, that horse was clean! I'd forgotten how pretty he is.
Eventually the wind will once again come sweeping down the plains and will dry up the mud. I know it will.