Saturday, April 4, 2009

Mary Had A Little Lamb

I was named after my mother's mother. She died when I was a senior in college. This is what I remember about her: she was always feeding whoever walked into her kitchen; she made fried eggs, bacon, and toast for my grandfather every morning of their lives together; it took her about an hour to wash the dishes (this unfortunate trait was handed down to my mother, and subsequently to me); she was very small in stature (this too); she had a very large propensity to worry (also this); I could never read her writing; and the most important, I always felt loved. I think my mother must have felt loved too, or she wouldn't have named her only daughter after her.

Mary has been a good name to me. I've never not liked it, even through all the "Mary, Mary, quite contrary" jokes, which I probably (and still do) just shrugged off. And I've definitely heard this a few times, although not usually in its entirety, but please sing along anyway.

Mary had a little lamb,
little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb,
whose fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
and everywhere that Mary went,
the lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day
school one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day,
which was against the rules.
It made the children laugh and play,
laugh and play, laugh and play,
it made the children laugh and play
to see a lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned it out,
turned it out, turned it out,
And so the teacher turned it out,
but still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about,
patiently about, patiently about,
And waited patiently about
till Mary did appear.

"Why does the lamb love Mary so?"
Love Mary so? Love Mary so?
"Why does the lamb love Mary so,"
the eager children cry.
"Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know."
The lamb, you know, the lamb, you know,
"Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know,"
the teacher did reply.



We don't have lambs on our farm because we have other, softer, animals which I'll introduce you to later. However, I drive by a sheep farm four times a day (sometimes) and it's most definitely a sign of spring when we see these little buggers come out of their mommies two by two. Within a few days, even within a few hours it seems, there is an army of rascals ready for play.


Hopefully, this will make you want to laugh and play, laugh and play, laugh and play. Hopefully, this will make you want to laugh and play ALL NIGHT LONG!

The Homesteading Hussy

2 comments:

  1. Hussy,
    This is great. We enjoy reading your writings. Keep em coming. Maig and Crichele in Pennsylvania

    ReplyDelete
  2. Whoaaa..... Intense...can you say "Margarita"?

    ReplyDelete