It’s gray and cold and rainy.
But there is a distinct upside.
The mud is everywhere. It calls me. (When mud calls me, it sweetly says my first and last name. Not Kilgore. The mud knows my real last name, and it is not afraid to use it.)
Mike has the kids tonight.
I’ll spend the evening exploring my favorite back roads and the dirtiest, muddiest places and get more than a little reckless. It’ll be good. And then I’ll come home, filthy and tired, and put on flannel bunny pajama pants and I’ll watch Texas Country Reporter. I record them and save them up and watch them like I’m 83 or something. I guess I just like Bob Phillips’ voice. Or I’m incredibly boring. Whichever. Doesn’t matter.
A friend and I did a ‘mud run’ recently. It was… lame. There weren’t many people, no one seemed very interested in the event, and there wasn’t any MUD. There was a decent amount of slightly dirty water. If you put water on certain kinds of west texas clay, it just turns to a gray puddle. And even if you crawl through it, you will NOT get muddy. You’ll get wet. So. We got wet. And disappointed. It was a serious mud letdown.
But tonight I’ll make up for that.
Mud. Bunnies In Pink Scarves Pajama Pants. Bob Phillips’ voice.
Not everyone’s winning combination for a Monday night, but it’s sounding really good to me.