Macho, Macho Man

Internet, I would like you to meet my husband, A. Hard-hitting, suave attorney by day, shepherd, lumberjack, and maintenance man by night (and weekends). Every workday, you can find him in his Clark Kent disguise, besuited and bespectacled and ready for a hard day at the desk. But once he leaves that office and hops back into his trusty, rusty Ford pick-up, he morphs into Superman.

This is a man who knows how to wield a splitting maul. It must be a required course at the local high school or something--"Introduction to Manly Activities." None of the men in my family are exactly dainty, but A. is something else. I have never before seen such inherent brute strength in a man. He doesn't bother lifting silly little weights on a bar--that's a waste of time when there are 200-pound chunks of wood to be thrown in the truck. The man is practically a draft horse. He'll tie a rope around his waist and literally haul a 600+ pound steel tractor up a hill and then into his truck bed. True story. It was really impressive. This is a useful kind of man to have around.

He can also build things. Maybe not pretty things, but useful. After single-handedly pulling down the old barn out back, he used most of the wood to build a turkey house and sheep barn. Also by himself, mostly. It's hard to be the lone man around here. Us weak women can only supply him with the food he needs to perform his feats of amazing strength. Luckily, I'm okay with the role of feeder instead of laborer. Though I often get drafted into the assistant position, in which I may be more of a hindrance than a help.

Yup, country boys can do it all. Farmgirl Susan has her Hunky Farmguy Joe. Pioneer Woman has her Marlboro Man. I have my A. Ladies, if you're considering a move to the country, you'd better get you one of these for your ownself. I know I find mine indispensable.