Feelin' Buggy

At this point, the Farmer Woman is feeling down. Rain, rain, rain leads to mud, mud, mud and bugs, bugs, bugs. Bugs, both seen and unseen, lead to blahs and sporadic twitching of tails and legs. "It's too early for this." says the Farmer Woman. "It's too muddy to live." says Betty the goat, as she sulks about the barn yard, picking her feet up high and stomping them down in a CLOMP-SQUISH, CLOMP-SQUISH, CLOMP-SQUISH pattern that sounds a bit like throwing wet sponges at the sidewalk.

The Farmer Woman keeps checking eyelids. The goats now look at her suspiciously and start to sidestep away when she first enters the gate. They look at each other with nervous glances. "Is she going to pry our eyes open?" They run about saying to each other, "Are my eyelids pale?" "How are my gums?" all concerned about whether or not they will be forced to ingest syringes full of dewormer.

The Farmer Woman is weary of slapping mosquitos and cleaning mud off udders and legs and hooves. The Farmer Woman is tired of her hair being untired and frizzed out. The Farm kids are tired of not playing outside.

For their part, the Farm Chickens are quite happy, scratching about in the mud and muck, digging up fat, wriggly worms, catching mosquitos out of the air. The Weather Man is saying two more days of rain. The Farmer Woman is hoping that no baby goats get completely covered over in mud, that no one gets hoof rot or pink eye or a worm bloom or a runny nose or a cough...the Farmer Woman thinks she worries to much. The Farm Goats agree.