Superbowl Sunday

Last night my family, like so many others across the U.S., sat down together to watch the Superbowl. My husband has always been a Patriot’s fan and was routing for Tom Brady all night. My son has a friendly rivalry with him by going against the Patriots- so last night he was pulling for Eli Manning and the Giants.

My daughter and I are not big football fans and still rely on an explanation of plays or calls we don’t understand. However, she was content to plan the family menu for the evening while I anticipated the half-time show. Normally I look forward to the commercials, but with this new policy of pre-viewing the ads in the days leading up to the game, I really didn’t think there would be many surprises.

I braved the crowds at the grocery store to get the ingredients we needed for our menu. We kept it simple so I didn’t start prepping until 5pm. Just before the kickoff, we each claimed our boxes on the score chart and then drew numbers. My son was in charge of letting us know who had a chance of winning each quarter, often breaking it down for me- explaining that if a field goal or a touchdown was scored who held the appropriate box. That certainly had me paying attention to the game. Since I had no preference for either team,  I could cheer for whoever would make the score a winner for me.

During the first quarter, we munched on our raw veggies with chips and dip as well as our mini pigs in a blanket.

By the time the loaded potato skins and wings came out it was almost half-time.


We laughed together at some of the commercials and my kids rolled their eyes when I sang along with Madonna to Like a Prayer.

We all were riveted to the game until the end, as it could have gone either way in a blink of an eye. When the Giants claimed victory, my son gave my husband a good ribbing. So whether we watched for the action, the entertainment or the food,  it was a fun family night.

Mud Season

We are now in the month of February. Pawxatauney Phil has seen his shadow and 6 more weeks of winter are predicted. Given the way the climate seems to have shifted this year, I fear that means we will have a longer mud season rather than snow. Yesterday the temperature reached 60 here, 25 degrees above normal. The hard frozen turf had started to thaw, becoming squishy under my feet. The little piles of snow and ice had melted, forming murky puddles everywhere.

By this afternoon, the ice should have melted.

There are only two things to do- walk on the road and avoid them, or don your boots and old jeans and embrace them.

When I taught preschool, I always took my students outside, even if it was muddy. I knew that most parents would prefer not to deal with muddy children at home, but would not object to washing snowpants or boots off as long as the kids were clean and well-exercised by the time they went home. My own son often spent hours roaming the wooded area behind the house, tramping through muddy puddles in search of frogs.     Much to my annoyance, he could care less if his pants and shoes were caked in mud. At least I was able to train him to strip down in the narrow entryway we call our  “mud hall”, leaving his shoes, socks, pants and coat on the rack or tray.     

I never had to worry about my daughter getting muddy. She would hold the frogs in her hand if he brought them back to the yard, but she would not chase them into the mud if they got away.      She preferred to let her brother do the dirty work.

Everyone has their own level of tolerance for such things.  When I looked up other posts about mud, I found two that caught my eye (see related links below). They both have pictures of people frolicking in the mud. I certainly enjoy the cool nourishing feeling of a mud mask from time to time, but mud wrestling does not appeal to me.

Unfortunately, my dogs have no concerns about splashing through the puddles or digging in the mud. They don’t consider the consequence that they will need a bath, which they hate. So that leaves me with the dilemma. Do I let them run off leash, sniffing and enjoying the thrill of the mud;       

or do I keep them on the road where the best they can do is follow the mailbox trail?   

I better stock up on some doggie shampoo. It’s gonna be a long mud season.

Check out these sites for a laugh:

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