Mudducking

I'm not even sure if that's how you spell it. I think it's a name that my sisters and I, or perhaps my mother, came up with. All I know is that MUDDUCKING is pure fun!

Today on my friend Laura's blog she was talking about walking around in the rain in her flip-flops. She was saying how much she loved the water on her feet and it instantly rushed me back to childhood and mudducking with my sisters.

We grew up on an amazing 1000 acre farm in South Dakota. It was the idyllic childhood and one of my favourite things to do came right after a HUGE thunderstorm. We got quite a few of them in the summer months and the rain would just pour out of the skies. After it stopped the roads were always all wet and there would be huge puddles all over our yard. Since we lived in the country, our roads were dirt and the mud would become all squishy. After the rain our favourite thing to do was go outside and just walk in the mud. The smell of rain filled the air and we loved the squishy feeling between our toes. I thought it was great to see that gooey, gunky brown muck squish up and make different shapes. It always started out as just walking and squishing, but inevitably turned into an actual mud fight! We always took the opportunity to throw mud through the air at one another and by the time we trooped back to the house after hours of fun our mom would be waiting by the door, garden hose in hand. After a complete washing we could enter the house and shower the afternoon fun away.

I'm not sure why it was so much fun, all I know is that I really loved mudducking! It was the essence of childhood, I believe. It is pure fun, no worries, no cares. I didn't have to think about my next deadline or all of the work I had to do. I didn't care what I looked like with brown streaks smeared across my face. I didn't care that my hair was caked together or that my legs were all sticky.

One time I went away for the summer. I was going on a missions trip to California and before I left I had a training time in Milwaukee. I was far away from home for the first time-by myself and for that long-and I was really missing my family. I remember sitting in my room and crying because I missed all of them so much and I was longing for something to remind me of home. Then...it rained. Not just that drizzly stuff, the intense, buckets-from-the-sky, raining cats and dogs, thunder and lightning kind of rain. It smelled like home. After the rain stopped I asked my roommate if she would go mudducking with me. After I explained what it was, she was game. We found a park near by and squished and squashed our way through it with the joy of little children. In that moment, even though I was far from home I felt as though I was not. I hear could hear the laughter of my sisters and imagine their squeals as I hurled mud at them. I could smell that fresh scrubbed earth smell that was so familiar. I knew I would be all right.

Now that I've been away from home for so long, I go further and further between those longing for home, I feel like my heart is breaking, I just need a hug from mom and dad moments. They still come though. This is my home now, but the farm and those wonderful childhood memories will always hold a little corner of my heart. I think the next time it rains, I just might have to go mudducking.