Digging For Dirt by kat/katlaughing


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The Song Challenge: Digging herself in deeper and deeper -- Yep, it's your one and only Giver-uppper of the Golden Cow Chips, back from the 'moving' wars and ready to test your little gray cells once again!! I'll just take this opportunity to let all you wonderful Challenge!rs know how much I've missed you -- and I hope we won't ever be parted for so long again . . . This Challenge! will be sorta personal, if y'all don't mind too much ;-) . . . I do think, however, that it will test your collective imagination and rhyming capabilities satisfactorily . . . Here's a picture of the new homestead, perched appropriately on a high sandstone hill in the Post Oak Savannah of Texas (the East Cross Timbers, to be exact). Please note the sandstone wall on the left . . . behind that wall is a curious little patch of broken stones, buried in a sandy clay loam, quite different from the rest of the grounds (you can't 'dig' here -- there's one inch of dirt, then rock, then THICK wet (not damp) clay). I've been digging and breaking rocks with my trusty spade and pickaxe for two weeks now, and I still haven't reached the bottom of this strange plot of earth. However, I have discovered a few interesting things buried under the first layer of dirt and rock . . . your Challenge! is to write a song about what I found buried beneath the red-tipped photinias, honeysuckle and asian jasmine . . . let your minds run wild and let your collective freak flags fly, my dear Challenge!rs and GO FOT IT! Hugs and snogs to each and every one of you -- and two kisses on each of your cheeks (hahaha) -- Áine (songtress, chef, chief bottle washer and now Mad Gardener)

Digging For Dirt by kat/katlaughing

Digging in the clay dirt
All covered with rock
Is a wild Irish womon
Sitting, cleaning her clocks.

She found them down under
Amid the debris
Of last year's big doings
Dumped out on the scree.

She came upon rubbers
To wear on your feet
Her pick axe struck pay dirt
When she went too deep

That black Texas oil
Came spurting up high
She yelled, "Got the big one!"
The Shrub shrivelled and died.

For he knew that our Áine
Was richer than he
For she struck the big one
And wealthy she'd be!

Now the moral of this story
If you go digging for dirt
With a heart that's wide open
You won't have to live in a yurt!