Walk Like a Man

Photo: Wm and Daddy working on the front flower bed. They removed the ink berry plants that masqueraded as landscaping. (I'll not be getting any awards from Better Homes and Gardens this year.) Note: the red adult-sized snow gloves.

Today, Wm and I took a pickup truck load of stuff to the dump. When we got there, he got out his gloves and said, "Now, we're going to get dirty like a man!" The 1970s feminist in me bristled. "Mommy gets dirty, too!" I exclaimed, thinking that I was protesting something that most women would deny ever happens to them. Still, it seemed the hightlight of his day to visit the dump. He was chucking wood out of the pickup with pure joy. Keeping him physically active is a constant challenge.

Today's activities on the farm: went to the dump, did laundry, dishes, floor, cleaned bathroom, fed chickens, groomed horses, went to the hardware store for a socket wrench to demolish the pool, watered the pasture with newly aquired sprinklers, hooked up trailer and hauled two horses to riding lessons, unhooked trailer and drove to get a round bale of hay. Returned to put round bale in the pasture, unloading it by driving off really fast (Lauren claims this is the "hillbilly way" but it worked) and then returned to pick up trailer and horses. Returned home to off-load horses and make dinner. Drank some wine. Now, time to read to Wm and go to bed.

Just so you know how our family works:
Lauren noticed that dh had a hole in his jeans and declared, "Dad, you have a hole in your butt." We all spent the next half hour laughing because as we all know, everyone does.