Ding dong, the Farmer's Home!
Which farmer?
Farmer H!
Ding dong, my Farmer H is home!
"Wake up, you sleepyhead! Rub your eyes! Get out of bed!"
He'll say to me, because we're wed.
I'll go where'er the Farmer goes. I know!
I know I know I know!
Ding dong, not merry, no!
Sing it high, sing it low.
So you know:
Farmer H is home!
As queen of the Mansion City, in the county of Hillmomba Land
I welcome you most regally
And verify it legally
That Farmer H is
morally
ethically
spiritually
physically
positively
absolutely
undeniably and
reliably
RETIRED!
While somewhat grim, not out on a limb, having interrogated him...
He's not only merely retired, he's really most sincerely retired.
This is a day of renewed dependence for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
Let the deer and the antelope show him how to roam
Farmer H is forever at home.
Yes. That day has come. Farmer H is officially retired. Let there be no question, and let the record show, that in his first hours of freedom, Farmer H jumped on his tractor and went to blade the road.
Let's hope this sets a precedent for the second day of the rest of his retired life, and that he gets out of the Mansion and grabs all the gusto he can.
My condolences!!
ReplyDeleteThere's no place like home.
ReplyDeleteThere's no place like home.
There's no place like home (for Farmer H).
fishducky,
ReplyDeleteThank you. That's almost as good as a nice casserole.
***
Sioux,
There are BETTER PLACES than home for Farmer H!
If we lived closer, the boys could blade together ...... HeWho loves to blade the roads, too.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteI know, right? They'd have 'em a CONVOY, blading all through the night. Or more like at 5:30 a.m., since mine goes to bed with the chickens.