Mud Month

Mud Month has arrived.  After an unusually warm winter, where we didn't have freezing temperatures more than 4-5 days in a row, I didn't think there really was any frost in the ground to come out once March arrived.  Yet, now that it's here, yes, there was frost, and yes, it's coming out, and yes, we are definitely going to have our annual Mud Month.

I started calling March "Mud Month" way back when I was a teenager working horses.  Because March was when the footing outside was always too muddy to ride.  Either frozen lumpy ankle-twisting mud from the cold night before, or greasy top layer only clay mud that was too slippery to work corners in or at speeds faster than an easy walk, or deep boot sucking tendon-straining mud as the frost thawed in huge wet pockets.

Through the years, March has continued to earn the name Mud Month.  No matter how cold the winter, no matter how warm the winter, March means mud.

The field is mud, and we don't dare attempt to take the tractor across it.

The garden is mud, and I can only think and dream about walking in it to plant this year's veggies.  Walking in it is out of the question, attempting to till it now would be disastrous.

The mud room is mud.  This time of year I can strip out all the shoes and boots and mop it daily (ugh!  Too big of a task.), or I can let the muddy footprints accumulate for six days and mop it on the weekend.



Mud Month, however, is a good thing.  The migratory birds return.  Things start to grow again.  Sap flows in the maple trees.  It's not too early to begin seeds indoors for transplanting to the garden in May.

Hooray for Mud Month!