I Enjoy Being A Girl

I enjoy being a girl. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, with me being raised in the country, on a horse, climbing trees, being chased by cattle, fishing and hunting and all that.

Being a girl, though, means we don’t have to look the same all the time. We can color our hair, change into different clothing, do our nails and makeup, put on pretty hats and jewelry. Face it, our men look pretty much the same all the time. Bless their hearts.

I do have my “man” times, though. My friend, Jeannie and I are always saying how we are the men in that wonderful bunch called the Kudzu Queens. Not that the other ones are not able, we just jump to the job if you mention saws, drills or hammers. We each have our own tools and we know how to use them!!!!!

We have redesigned trailers, built floats, dragged, lifted, hammered, sawed, drilled, and we love it!!

Which leads me to a tree cutting story..we once got someone to come out and cut down a few trees. The neighbors were in on this with us. Most, we kept for firewood so we can cozy up in the winter with our sweethearts and dogs.

The tree men did leave some huge logs, cut into lengths but still whole. They sat there for a while, and finally I said, “Sweetheart, we need to split those logs for firewood” whereupon my love got the axe and a splitting mawl and went outside. I watched from the window as he struggled and fought with a log. He was, after many attempts to split it, cursing and sweating like a man is supposed to do, but without positive results.

The neighbors ambled over to watch. My husband tried and tried. I watched and watched.

Now, I wasn’t raised by a logger for nothing. My childhood home was heated with wood. I finally stalked out there, spit in both hands, grabbed the axe, and first thing—I SPLIT THE LOG! THEN, I SPLIT ANOTHER, AND ANOTHER!

Our neighbors were making admiring noises. One of the other neighbors came out to watch the spectacle. It must have been as good as fireworks, because they became “wooo” people. You know, those people who say “wooooo” when they watch fireworks?

I split and split and split. My sweetheart was like,
“Dang, Baby..I feel like half a man!!”

Now, when he asked me to marry him, he did not ask for my resume’. I guess he figured he knew all about me, but even after all these years I still hold back some things to cause marital “shock and awe”.

Or… maybe he had talked to my Momma first and she told him I love to weed eat, can split wood, start fires, cut limbs off trees, catch and clean fish, paint, use a saw, a drill, and a shovel. It would be just like my Momma to sell me off like that…she loved my husband!!

I think he forgets all that sometimes, though. We often have what we call a date, and I try to fix up and look at least a little like a female. Sometimes, I even wear a skirt or dress. At those times, he doesn’t think of saws, drills and shovels. He always, always, always says, “You look nice, my beautiful wife.”

Except for that time I asked him if a certain white skirt made me look fat. He broke down that day…he said……..”Well, kinda.”

I let him live, the white skirt went to the thrift store, and it has never been discussed. But it could be…..it sure could be. It’s according to whether or not we need some logs split!!

I will most likely say, “About that white skirt……………”