And Now it's Time for Silly Songs With Janie...

It's spring! The sky is blue, the air smells like growing things, the birds are singing...and mud is squelching underfoot. Every single spring, without fail, the farm turns into a sea of mud. Six-inch deep, slimy, sticky clay. Everything gets coated with the pestilential stuff: the animals, the floors, me. I simply must find humor in the situation. I go out and work in the mud twice a day, and without laughter, I would go insane...or perhaps I already am insane, and that's why I can laugh...Anyroad, I rewrote the hymn He Arose to suit my muddy plight. I hope no-one finds this too sacreligious.

Low in the mud she lay, writhing and squirming,
Coated with slimy clay, yelling 'oh crumbs!'

Then up from the mud she arose,
All slimed and smeared from head to toes.
She arose a victor from the slimy depths,
And now she's more careful to watch her steps.
She arose! She arose! Hallelujah! She arose!