This Week’s Writing Prompt
On June 29, we observed International Mud Day, a day to celebrate mud and the fun of getting messy. What better time of year to commemorate mud’s glory than in summer. Summertime reminds me of mud and long, steamy days playing outside with friends as a child. Life was pretty simple then, as evidenced by our preferred choice of entertainment: dirt and water.
Some days we sank our toes into the cool squishiness of the mud. Other days our creativity took flight when we constructed an entire town of little mud buildings and roads traced in the dirt, populated by several toy cars. A storyline that usually resembled a poorly written soap opera developed as we crafted the sticky blobs into houses.
What about you?
- What do you remember about mud as a child?
- Did you like to play in the mud or were you someone who wanted to stay clean?
- If you liked mud, what did you do with the mud, e.g., make mud pies, mud soup, wrestle in the mud, play in mud puddles, make mud castles or houses?
- Write about your experience with mud.
Post your responses in the comments sections below.
All posts in response to our writing prompts in July will be entered into our drawing to win a free online coaching video—that’s a $20 value!
5 Comments
Judi
Ah yes mud! Now we have a subject on which I am knowledgeable!
I was chef in the “House of Mud” as I called it. I had myself a little hideaway under the back porch. That was where I would test new recipes on my grill, which was fired by the slit in the steps. They were at a perfect angle to let a steady stream of sunlight in, where I made the most divine pancakes and decorated cakes! I so enjoyed this little hide away.
In order to make pancakes and cakes, etc., you need water and my father thought the cat might be diabetic for all the water he drank. The cat knew I took his water, and he played along. In fact, he was my first customer! I have no doubt he thought I was nuts, but he wasn’t a tattle tale.
Once I became proficient at the pancakes, pies and cakes, I arranged for my dolls to join me, one by one, slowly of course. That had to be dolls my mother would not miss… someone I rarely played with. I had a few buried I the closet and I carefully snuck them out to the House of Mud. These three ladies came for tea and cakes each afternoon, until
In rained. It rained and it just killed my business. I had to start all over again, but at lease I had the benefit of having done it before and I could make the new House of Mud even better than before. For now, though, I need to find enough water to bathe the ladies.
Patricia
Judi, I enjoyed reading about your secret House of Mud and all of your adventures there. You really had a beautiful imagination! Did your parents ever find out about your muddy hideaway? Thank you for sharing such an endearing story.
Norma Beasley
What fun it was to take a flying leap, landing bare foot in a mud puddle with a resounding splash. The soft putty muck stuck between my toes, splattered up my legs and soiled my rolled up denims. In one corner of the puddle was a greasy rainbow. Immersing both hands in the brown watery goo to make mudpies was cool. There is something wonderful and liberating about mud. Getting dirty…not having to care.
Judi
Isn’t that the truth, Norma! There is something wonderful and liberating about mud and getting dirty!!!!
Patricia
Norma, I agree with Judi. There is indeed something so freeing about getting dirty and not having to care. You show that liberation in your actions here before proclaiming it. Great job with the word pictures you created in this short piece. I can almost feel that “soft putty muck” between my toes, too!