True love is cleaning chicken butts......

My husband and I recently surpassed the seven-years-of-marriage mark, and this fall will mark our thirteenth year of togetherness.  We don't get all wishy-washy about these events on our life timelines and I'm not one to willingly share my feelings, yet it makes me reflect on how good I've got it. 

I love my husband because he puts up with the CRAZY that comes out of me sometimes.  I love how hard he works at his job and how motivated he is to be successful in life.  I love how kind and generous he is to others.  I love his goofiness and intelligence.

I absolutely LOVE that my husband helps me pick dried shit off the butts of my chickens.  As a "city boy," he was not excited about having backyard chickens in the first place, but he put together a great coop for the girls, helps me dust them for mites when needed, set up a fan to keep them cool in the heat, and takes care of them when I'm away.

Speaking of away.........

I also love my husband because he doesn't begrudge me too much for escaping on fly fishing trips throughout the year.  Though he's not a fly fisherman himself, he respects my zeal for the sport and supports my hobby, whether that means leaving for a weekend in March or an entire week in July.  I'll be leaving on one of these trips shortly, which means my husband will be responsible for my daily chores while I'm gone......and he won't complain about it.  For seven days he'll have to wake up earlier than normal to water the vegetable garden, feed the cats, feed and water the chickens, move the coop, scoop out poop, and collect eggs.  All this while I'm off fly fishing on a mountain stream with other men........

I'm a lucky girl.