Raise a hoof to the Dirt Farmer

The place would fall down without him - or at least fall down much faster. He was born 54 years ago yesterday. I was almost one, living far away from him. I'm glad he learned how to use a hammer early on and had the genetic make-up to live with a sensitive artist type. He's my best friend and ally.

This is a man that never wanted a cat in the house and now lives with several on his pillow at night. He cooks up the best meal on any night from his curry cauliflower, Moroccan lamb stew, yogurt dilled eggplant...and the best egg dishes ever. He indulges me by bringing me my wine at night and listening to my woes, dreams and more. He makes me laugh - all the time.

I like all these pics, but the last one is what I see when I look around the farm - a humble man that works hard, is happy and lets me follow my dreams too, in ways I couldn't do as well without him. He has a style of his own which is demonstrated in these photos. When I say, "Hey, can you put this apron on so I can take a picture of it for the maker?" [fabric designer Amy Schimler gifted it to me and Pino for our Pie Day] this is a man that does it with a smile...he was holding a carrot for some reason, which always makes me laugh.

We are watching his parents age, not so gracefully but they do their best, and my mother is 87 living alone after my father died 5 years ago. I often look at him when we are out working and think of all our hard work here and how much we've done to an old dilapidated farm, all our laughs over broken fencing, goat escapes, cow intrusions,flooding, ladder mishaps, rooster wars, first births and slaughters, digging graves - and how could I forget - planting 4,000 lavender plants and weeding them. I hope when I'm old I never forget the nuances of our life together.

And I still like the way he fills out those jeans, ladies!

We had a simple meal of fresh carrot soup and homemade bread, so hearty and simple just like our life here. Raise a toast, hoof or tip your hat - to The Dirt Farmer!