One Sunday afternoon when he was nine he began showing results of these training exercises. It was a raw March day, when snow had melted and soil just thawed, turning field beside house into icy clay gumbo. Which gumbo was several feet deep. Davie -- who by then had let us know that David, not Dave and never again Davie, was his name of choice -- David took truck out into middle of gumbo and deliberately mired it up to its hubcaps. All afternoon we'd hear truck roar and spin, roar and spin . . . a five-minute silence, then roar and spin, roar and spin. A miserable, cold, windy afternoon, and even David would be driven in to warm his freezing hands and get a drink of water.

David's reports were always cheerful. Early announcements explained how truly hopelessly mired he'd gotten truck. Later reports described efforts with chains, boards, and gunny sacks, all performed with his bare hands in freezing mud.

"It's halfway out!"

Much roaring from field.

"It's almost there, just a few more tries."

Sounds from field as of a truck in its last agonies.

"It's out! It's out! I got it out!"

A look at kitchen clock. "I guess I have time to get it stuck again before dark."

Go STEAMIN’ DOWN THE TRACKS WITH VIOLA HOCKENBERRY, a storytelling cookbook -- and find Montana country cooking, nostalgic stories, and gift ideas -- at Janette Blackwell’s Food and Fiction, http://foodandfiction.com/Entrance.html -- or visit her Delightful Food Directory, http://delightfulfood.com/main.html

4. Check out your nearest hunting and fishing club (that’s only place to play with big boys’ toys or swap big whoppers with best bareback bull-riders or feisty fly-catchers in town!)

5. Visit a shoe-store and pick out best pair of glass slippers you can lay your eyes on (if they don’t have any in stock, ask who makes best brand …because you need to replace pair of steel-toed stilettos you misplaced at last ball you attended if you recall!)

6. Put on your dancing duds, turn down lights, and crank up mood music (listen up there “Goody-Two-Shoes” …how can you meet Mr. Right unless your neighbors know you’re one very potent party-animal who simply adores dog-trot, dog-paddle, or better yet …a daring dog-catcher!)

7. Sign up for some high-energy hoopla (you know … steamy, strut your stuff, svelte exercise programs such as private pole-dancing, strip-tease yoga, and winking for wimps!)

8. Learn to play golf (it’s only time you can talk about balls with great abandon, rent a cute-looking caddy for day, a carry a long club without any questions asked, or just knock socks off other fellows in your foursome as one very spicy, sophisticated, sultry, swinger from Shady Lane!)

9. Practice your pillow-talking skills (by whispering sweet nothings into your bed-linens or singing saucy songs in shower; that way you’ll constrain that crazy urge to canoodle and be ready to meet Prince Charming, disguised as a shoe clerk, who's eager you try on that little glass slipper silly!)

10. Memorize some provacative parlour pick-up lines (like “Okay, if I shake MY Booty, then will you come out and play?” “Granny Smith doesn’t live here …but if you’re Johnny Appleseed …I’ll show a you good time in my Garden of Eden”, “Keep ringing my chimes like that and I’ll have to call Big Bopper on you!”)

And if this doesn't work for you, take a hint from one wisewoman with a wishbone -- run out and join circus. After all, who wouldnt want a couple of "boisterous broads" to liven up greatest sideshow on earth!