Wednesday, February 28, 2007

A Real Man

Where have I been? Oh, glad you asked. I've been ogling this sight. These are the type of people I love. LOVE! Why? Because their hands are rough. They have prematurely aged skin from sun exposure. They get up hours before the rest of the world starts hitting the snooze button. They wear chaps....chaps and cowboy boots and they drive trucks and wear chaps. At the end of the day they probably smell a bit like axle grease, manure and horse sweat, but it doesn't matter cause their wearing chaps.

Now, let's go back to the rough hand comment. I'm married to a man with big, dry, rough hands. I prefer to hold a warm, dry, rough hand. When I shake the hand of a man and it's soft, silky and (God-help-me) dewy or moist or clammy or sweaty or lotioned, my view of him changes. I instantly wonder if he ever works with his hands. Work that extends beyond a keyboard. Work that would require him to break a sweat, use his muscle or end up in the emergency room from oh, lets say, slamming his hand in the spring of the garage door he is repairing while the rest of the house is still asleep or jumping off the roof because his wife just screamed that their toddler fed an open safety pin to the baby. You know, common stuff like that.

My husband comes home from work everyday sporting a dress shirt and tie with his leather bag strapped over his shoulder and his ipod plugged into his ears. But, on weekends when he's working on a project and he pulls on his Carhart pants and leather tool belt (which is the closest thing to chaps around here...grrrrowr) I think, "Now there's a man!". I love watching him wield a chainsaw or chop firewood or, my favorite, when he single handedly schlepped what seemed like ten tons of shingles up a ladder to our roof.

I love that he will discard his white collar appearance and get down in the muck to fix anything. Now, he doesn't always do it right the first time and we have had to call for help more than once, but he's willing to try to accomplish just about any repair job or need around the woodsy existence that we call home.

With that said, this weekend he's got big plans to slip into his Carharts (grrrowr), sharpen the blade of his ax, round up the evil rooster and kill him. Not quite the same as cowboys working cattle, but close enough. Do you all want me to take pictures? Who's up for a chicken dinner?

8 comments:

Richard said...

Does the evil roster have large talons?

Yes, pictures please.

april said...

Napolean,
An evil roster would only require a paper shredder...ooooh maybe we could put Ed through the paper shredder??

And yes, he has large talons and right now he's sporting a broken beak, kinda makes him look bulldogish.

Clay wants to see him run around after he chops the head off...ya know like a chicken with it's head cut off, but I say NO!

Anonymous said...

My grandmother used to catch a chicken and whip it over her head to break its neck. Maybe he should try that method? Maybe it is more manly to use an axe.
--annie :)

Mary said...

OMG!! You just described my man. Well, mine is dark haired, but the dressy clothes for work, carharts (I *love* me a man in bibs!!) on the weekend, the big, rough hands! Grrrrowr is right!

Phelan said...

I'm with you on that. My husabnd has those hands, and I love watching him work. But, I have not been able to watch him butcher poultry yet, even when I had to hold the turkey down.

vaphualization said...

Hi D/April, good blog you've got here. My name is Lun, and I'm from India, in the extreme north-eastern border. I came across your blog last time, but couldn't remember when. I could see you've got some friends here in our region. And it dawned on me that you might be interested in some pictures that I posted on my blog, http://vaphualization.blogspot.com/2007/02/mother-should-i-trust-government.html . These pictures are genuine, taken in December 2006. They reflect the apathetic condition of outer Manipur, that's where we live. And I do want the whole world to see that this place still exists in the 21st century.

Your children are way too beautiful!

Peace.

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