Yesterday morning I helped Rich feed out round bales by opening the electric gates to the pastures while he drove in with the tractor.
We had to do it while it was still cold and below freezing. If we wait until the middle of the day or evening, at this time of year the pasture is a mud-pit.
As I stood in the gateway to the mares pasture, I stomped my foot in the frozen mud. A squirt of water broke up through the thin layer of ice. Something triggered a memory. I jumped up and down once or twice to see if I could get the water to squirt up higher.
Then I began to smile with the distant memory [which only seems like yesterday to me] of my sons doing the same thing when we lived in Kenosha County. They had their rubber 'chore' boots on and were out in the plowed field after the first spring melt and hard freeze. They delighted in jumping on the frozen mud and getting the water below the thin ice to squirt upwards.
I recall asking them what it was they were doing. I'd laughed at their answer. They were making 'Bah-bush-ka's'. And not the thing that women wear on their heads.
So as I stood waiting for Rich to come back with the tractor, I did some hopping up and down...I didn't get the great 'Bah-bush-ka' squirt, but I sure had some great memories. And kept warm too.
When we got back to the house. Rich wanted to know what the heck I'd been doing over by the gate.
Did I get overcome?
Was I having a fit?
How could I explain if he didn't already know?
After all, 'Bah-bush-ka' squirts only come once a year.