God Bless The Working Man

These pictures came through my Google photos the other day, off Marc’s work phone, and they made me all warm and fuzzy inside.


I don’t know about you, but I have a thing for the working man.  I tell my husband over and over again, “Being broke is totally worth you being this hot.”  (But I also like being broke, so there’s really no trade off.)  It’s all win, win around here.


Don’t you just love hands?  Marc is an intellect, sensitive and artistic to boot, and you can still see it in his hands, no matter how dirty they are.  I also love how he’s wearing the plastic ring off an olive oil bottle for a wedding band, because that’s about how pretentious he is.


I’m sure other women like their husbands.  And it’s nice of them to work hard all day to provide for their families, office or not.  But I tell you what, there’s nothing like a dirty, bearded, husband, stumbling into the house at the end of the day, smelling of chainsaw gas and cottonwood trees, hardly able to stand.  It’s my favorite.  You know I don’t ask for much.

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