In the mud

I know I've been complaining about the weather, and it is still too damn cold for my taste.  It has, however, gotten warm enough that Franny is back to digging in the dirt beside our garage for critters.  She finds these little salamanders I never knew existed.  I finally got around to looking them up online for her, while she was standing at my knee.  They are called red-backed salamanders, and they don't seem to live as far south as where I grew up digging in the dirt.

Anyway, we clicked through a few results and found one that showed a young woman who was literally armpit deep in sludge.  I don't know where exactly she was, but it looked like a small river of mud.  She was covered, hair, shoulders, everything in this mud.  She was looking for something.  Just as I was about to shudder and recoil, Franny says breathlessly:  "Oh!  I wish I could do that!"

Bless her little heart.  Or something.

So, apparently, at some point I need to send her to some sort of summer camp where she can be surrounded with like-minded folk who want to swim in mud looking for slimy creatures to coddle, adore and release.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of getting dirty or of letting her get dirty.  And I'm not squeamish in general, but I do have my limits.  And our yard only has so much to offer. 

Comments

[betsey]

on the bright side, maybe she will really like spa treatments, like being fully submerged in some sort of clay/mud bath???