Sasha here; pleased to be back.
Alpha mom has gone off on her bi-annual “Grandma Janet Road Trip” and left me home with Alpha Pop and the chickens.
She’ll be back with her series on civil discourse next week. You know, the LEAP FROG series. She did the R in FROG last week.
Have you been enjoying the series? (She wanted me to ask you.) She says she’s learned a lot from putting it together. And she’s REALLY looking forward to the last two, O and G.
I thought I might have a little fun with OG myself, but she asked me to behave.
This is me last winter, behaving. One winter up here looks pretty much like another.
This year winter ended the week before Alpha Mom left for Ohio.
And you know what comes along right after the winter snow?
Sometimes the mud arrives in March and doesn’t leave until May. We never know. We just keep trudging along, one day after the other.
Some people find mud season annoying and a lot of folks up here complain about it. But we try not to. Alpha Mom sometimes leaves her car in town and has Alpha Pop shuttle her up and down the mountain in his truck. Her car is one of those Corgi or Basset Hound automobiles. You know, low to the ground, short legs.
Canine-nally, (Well, I can’t very well say person-ally) I love mud season. First of all, it means the days are warm enough that I can stay outside all day if I want to. And, I do.
Then there’s the pond; the ice has started to melt and I love to jump in and paddle around. I tend to do this when no one is looking because I’ve learned that if they see me about to jump in, I get called home. So, I wait until they’re busy doing something else.
I love it when Alpha Mom towels me off.
The photo above is from a few years ago. It’s summer for sure. Look at all that green! I couldn’t find a photo from now; no one takes any photos during mud season.
The thing about mud season is that you only see the effects: what’s on the surface (the mud!). You can’t see underground — one or two or three or even four feet down — where the still frozen soil acts as a barrier to the snow melt. So it’s sometimes hard to know how bad it’ll be or how long it will last.
In states that have no mud season, the snow melts and the water sinks into the ground. But here, the ground down deep is still frozen even after the snow starts to melt. So the water can’t sink into the ground. Instead, it lolls around on top, mixing with the dirt and last year’s leaves.
A local novelist, Howard Frank Mosher, has written that mud season is “emblematic of everything that’s bleak and horrible about being isolated at the end of a road that you just can’t get out of.”
That’s pretty depressing all right. I’m glad I don’t read much.
The poet Robert Frost, a local guy before he died, wrote this about mud season back in 1934:
The water for which we may have to look
In summertime with a witching wand,
In every wheel rut’s now a brook
In every print of a hoof a pond.”
He named it Two Tramps in Mud Time.
Alpha Mom says I should ask you what are the “frost heaves” in your life? What brings “mud” into your life but is invisible to the eye?
Next week Alpha Mom will be back with O is for ??? There’s one more (the G) in the series and then we’ll get to meet a group of interesting women who have moved to the U.S. from other countries (and a few who haven’t moved here). And we’re going to learn a bit about how folks from other cultures see America. From what I hear, they notice things that we don’t.