Whatever gene it is that makes a person get up and go out to work everyday, through the snow and the rain and the extreme heat and the ice and the wind and the sunshine, that love for the outdoors that makes one hold close to their heart and covet the sacred right to bury their hands in the dirt...
That gene.
I do not have that gene.
Thankfully the Hubs does.
I firmly believe it is only because of that gene that he has marched out to work the last two weeks. The man, whom hates the cold the way many hate spiders or snakes, that man has bravely pulled on his jeans and coveralls and sweatshirt and winter coat and gloves and balaclava (in April) and has dutifully gone out to live the life he has chosen.
And I have not heard him complain. Not once.
Not when the feed truck gets stuck in the muck and slop for the third time that day. Not when he has to scoop snow out of the feed bunks for the fifth time that week, not when he loses another calf due to the freezing temps.
Not once has he given up.
I am not that man.
Yesterday I gave up. I laid down with my three year old at nap time and I didn't wake up for two hours. I slept a heavy sleep full of dreams and unconsciousness.
The Hubs is a far better person than I am.
When I give up, he soldiers on.
I am one lucky lady.
He is not the kind of man that puts up drywall or lays wood floors.
He is the kind of man that cares for a newborn calf, knows how to vaccinate livestock, and take apart a silage cutter and put it back together.
That's my man.
I fix the home. He fixes everything else.
He is a farmer, he is a rancher.
Today is Earth Day and he loves our dirt way more than I do and for that I am grateful!
Have a lovely (Earth) day!
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