Mud Season: Coexisting (Peacefully) With Mud

Reader Contribution by Oz Girl
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It’s a good thing I bought Muck brand boots a few months ago for the hubster and I. They’re awesome boots, the absolute best for our current muddy conditions around the ranch! I’m wearing the “Jobber” Muck boots in the photo below, although it’s hard to tell with all the mud schmoozing around my feet. I bought the “Chore” Muck boots for the hubby, which are mid-calf and higher than my “Jobber” style … I wish I had bought the “Chore” style for myself, but even so, I REALLY LOVE MY MUCK BOOTS!! 

I really feel bad for the horses … their paddock areas are just an absolute mess right now. They all have access to pasture area, which is not as muddy as their paddocks, but of course they rarely go out to the pastures since there’s nothing but unappetizing brown grass out there right now.

Poor ole Murphy, always being sassed by Paint – we rope him off separately these days to ensure he gets all his Purina Equine Senior feed. Goodness knows that fat ole Paint doesn’t need it!

Miss Stormy’s legs barely look like the grey color that she is and yet she doesn’t let the mud deter her spunk. This girl greets the day (translation = her food) with high anticipation!

Thank gawd we have a redneck car wash on the side of our road. Never heard of that? Look closely at the photo below, and you can see the tire tracks where hubby zoomed the truck as far to the left of the road as he could, and as fast as he could, to wash some of the mud off the truck.

Yeppers, men and 4-wheel drive trucks and muddy roads – it’s a testosterone laden combination! (Really, do they ever grow up?!)

Quite frankly, the mud has beat me. Yes, this city gal has reluctantly given in to the mud – what else could I do? Resigned, I sadly clean it, day after day, from our laundry room aka mud room.

Now I know why they are called “mud rooms”.

But would I ever reconsider living in the country, and move back to the city?!


I will plant my feet firmly on this country soil (mud), and try to coexist peacefully with this time of year that I call the “season of mud.” It may have beat me in a realistic, physical kind of way, but it will never rob me of all the myriad pleasures of country living.

And of course, my Muck boots will keep the mud from sucking me into it’s squishy depths.

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