After nearly 3 months without a single recordable precipitation event, southwest Kansas got a little rain during the last week of March. Rain gauges practically over flowed with more than 5 inches recorded in some areas. Again on April 4 we got more rain, with more than an inch in some areas.

I learned in 2011 to never cuss the rain because there might be a time when it doesn’t come. That year, it was hot, dry and drought was thrown around quite frequently. We finally got relief later in the year, but I vowed to never cuss the rain. Mud, however, is a different story.

Last fall I attended a sorghum tour in the Texas panhandle. Rain was in the forecast, and since my ugly garden rubber boots weren’t sound enough to leave the place, I stopped in Amarillo on my way to Lubbock at one of my favorite stores. There I happened upon a sale on good “muck” boots and splurged. I didn’t get to use them on the sorghum tour, and they sat in the box for the remainder of the fall. The first time I did bust them out it was glorious. They didn’t leak. I had traction in the mud. And they were warm. Score.

Later in the winter, they were my go-to when I was summoned to help get a cow and a calf in the pens during single-digit temps and snow. My feet were warm, dry and toasty. Later that same week I had to push said cow and calf back to the pens horseback and I was amazed how comfortable my muck boots were to ride in. Again, I was glad I’d splurged.

The pair of muck boots I’d gotten are lined to keep your calves warm. I’d gotten too warm at one point and folded the tops down to make them easier to get on and off and they just stayed that way until last week. The rain had made a river of the horse pens and in order to dump feed in one of the bunks I had to step into the river. I’d seriously questioned why I left the boot tops folded down thinking I’d have a boot full of water. But it wasn’t nearly as deep as I thought, and I didn’t get my feet wet.

Yesterday I had to again feed in the mud and muck, plus it was still raining when I had to do chores. I’d stayed home sick and felt about as dreary as the weather was, but I had to take care of the horses. I bet I looked frightful—with my pajama pants, tall-top muck boots, Carhartt coat and hoodie on. None of it really helped and I ended up soaked. Well, all except my feet. They were still dry.

All these words to say, when you run across a sale on muck boots, take advantage. Pay the $100 and have your feet stay warm and dry. Mud puts me in a bad mood, but not as bad as wet feet in crappy boots!