One thing I've learned about being near or affiliated with a farm is that dirt is everywhere. It's everywhere, and that's OK.
It has taken me a long time to be able to say that. Here's my story on my acceptance of dirt.
I had this "cappuccino" vision of farms that included cows trotting toward their owner upon hearing a certain song (you've all seen that video, right?) . If you watch until the end...you'll get a surprise at how smart those cows are (Go BIG RED - for you Wisconsin Folk) .
I also had a romanticized view of farm life from Instagram. Oh Instagram... You know, the photos of chickens being chased by cute kids, and gorgeous little goats climbing on someone while they sip wine & munch on a wood fire cooked pizza. You know the ones.
I love those photos and waste a lot of time on social media scrolling through them. But that's not my reality, and that's a fact.
My reality is dirt. Lots of dirt.
I have a cappuccino house. I'll admit it. I also like it clean. Very clean.
So, when my gentleman farmer walks in on my gorgeous new hickory wood floors with his dirty farm boots - I bite my tongue. Ok, I don't bite my tongue, I let him have it.
I've tried to enforce a rule to take ones' shoes off in the garage prior to walking into my mud room that's way too pretty to be a farm related mud room. The challenge I've found with that though, is that there is still mud and dirt all over, it's just on my steps in and all over my garage. It then gets into my house by little feet that come in and out constantly through the same mud trodden garage.
It's a never ending battle.
Other rules include the fact that I force my gentleman farmer and any little farmer boys who are muddy, to strip down in said mud room, and leave their dirty farm clothes in the adjacent laundry room. I then will assess if a good rinsing must take place prior to placing the dirty clothes in the washer.
Call me crazy - I dare you. So far, it works.
Currently they are fixing tile in the fields. Don't ask me to explain what that means, but I know it entails a lot of mud caked clothing. This photo does not do it justice in the least.
This photo is after a lot of rinsing - and the dirt just kept coming and coming and coming.
But it's just dirt. It can be cleaned.
Dirt is also beautiful. It really is. Have you ever put your hands in good clean dirt?
What about dirty dirt? Not as nice but still nice.
Dirt is everywhere on our farm. EVERYWHERE.
When my gentleman farmer comes home with mud caked jeans and boots it means he's been working hard. Making something better. Don't ask me what, but something.
The dirt on those boots signify that something has been planted, or harvested, or assessed, or fixed, or worked on, or taken care of on our farm. Dirt means that work is being done and things are being accomplished.
Dirt means money is being made and projects are being completed.
I still hate dirt. I'll still roll my eyes as my high heeled self steps over the mud caked shoes in my garage.
However, dirt and I have a new appreciation for each other I think. We try to stay away from each other, but in the end, we always end up around each other. Whether I like it or not.
Unless I ask for the strip down to happen in the driveway (much to, I'm sure, the would be amusement of my neighbors), the dirt will make it's way into my home, and so I vow to find beauty in the blasted dirt...
And get a bigger mud room.