Farm Stud

See that guy in the picture - the one without ice cream on his face? Yeah, that's my man. I don't often brag about how awesome he is, even though I tell myself every day how blessed I am that I ended up with such a fabulous husband. When you are 18 and in love, you don't ask yourself the big questions about the man proposing marriage to you. I knew I loved him and wanted to go through the adventure of life with him, but I had no idea, nor did I even have enough life under my belt, to consider what kind of man he would be in 12 years. How would he handle losing a job? How would he deal with me being completely immobilized by several pregnancies and having tons of health issues after each birth? How would he treat me when I was so sad about my mom's death that I couldn't even get out of bed? How would he deal with me being a WOMAN and never quite knowing what mood I would be in from day to day? How would he react to me deciding to raise a bunch of crazy chickens when I could barely keep our tiny house clean? The answer, it turns out, is that he would always treat me with more respect and love than I even deserved.

Last night at 4 am he and I awoke to the sounds of "chicken trouble." If you have chickens, you know what I mean; they do not make noises at night unless something is wrong. Always ready for a fight, Brett leaped out of bed and was outside in the pitch dark wearing nothing but his underwear before I even realized what was happening. Right outside our back deck, our largest rooster was engaged in the fight of his life against a coyote. Crazy old rooster - he thinks he is too special to come in at night and has been roosting in various secret places at night rather than allowing us to lock him up somewhere safe. Well, last night he was discovered, and, thanks to Brett's quick reflexes, the coyote was chased off before it got more than a mouthful of rooster tail feathers.

That wasn't the end of it, however. For the next 45 minutes my husband ran around the blackened pasture in his boxers trying to catch that dang rooster in order to put him away somewhere safe. That's some kind of wonderful. I'm pretty sure my husband isn't emotionally attached to that rooster, who is actually a bit more trouble than he's worth. Especially at 4 in the morning. But Brett chased that bird around until the rooster just gave up and stood still, allowing himself to be caught. After a quick check-up to determine he hadn't been hurt, it was off to the coop with him. Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep last night. But Brett still had enough whatever-it-is to get up before 6 and go to the men's Bible study he leads (while the kids and I slept in past 8, by the way). THAT'S a good man. I guess the way to my heart is through my chickens. And since the way to his heart is through delicious baked goods, I've made 4 loaves of zucchini bread this morning. Now he'll be stocked up on his latest favorite treat and I'll feel a little like I repaid him for his night-time rescue. But the greatest thing about it is that I don't need to repay him. And he would do it again in a heartbeat.