Well, it's finally happened....

My husband is a hunk.

He seriously is.

He's 41, has worked hard all of his life and between his work ethic, the everyday kinds of things that he does (like running a grader, welding, hauling hay and shoeing horses), and his genetics, he's just physically tough. He has good balance, great reflexes and he's super-duper strong. He's kind of a freak, actually.

Well, no, that's not true. He's not a freak. But it makes me feel better about my own lack of physical prowess to thinks so.

Anyway.

The other day when his brother's family was visiting, one of their 16 year old twins was showing off his ripped biceps. Now this kid is also really athletic and can run a 4:40 mile, but his biceps are not especially large. Not that they don't look lean and mean and very impressive, mind you, but when you're married to the kind of biceps I'm married to.... well, it's all relative.

So when Justin was showing off his biceps, I turned to Marty and said, "Show him yours, honey." And Justin's "old" uncle raised his arm and popped up a Popeye muscle that was about 3 times the size of Justin's.

Justin took one look, said, "I think I'm going to cry," and then wandered dejectedly away.

I almost felt bad for him for a minute, but then I decided that all cute, ripped, cocky 16 year old boys ought to have an uncle or a dad or a grandpa who can show them up once in a while. It's good for their character.

For years I've been trying to get my hubba-hubba-hubby to flex for a photo for me, and he's been absolutely unwilling and completely unsympathetic to my cause. But the other day, as I was complimenting him on the handsome cowboy shirt he was wearing (that I bought for him at a thrift store, of course) and he was feeling charitable toward me for telling him how hunky and manly he looked, he finally agreed to flex for the camera. IF he didn't have to hold his arm up and have his face in the picture. I also had to do a little extra bargaining, but I jumped at the chance even though his muscle looks bigger when he holds his arm up.

As soon as I finished taking the photo he said, "Are you going to put that picture on your blog?" And I said, "You BETCHA baby! We made a deal!"

So much to his chagrin, it is now on my blog. He should have thought of that before he let me take the shot.

Here he is in all his freaky glory.

In a pink shirt, no less.

Notice the bulging muscle in his HAND as well. And let me tell you, that hand is heck on jar lids!


Take THAT Marlboro Man! (You have to be a follower of Pioneer Woman to appreciate that reference.)

And then, as if the muscles weren't enough, he went right out and cooked us dinner in a dutch oven.


Be still my heart.

(Just a photographic side note: It was very interesting to me to notice the difference in the color of his shirt in the house - 1st picture - and outside under the awning. Hmmm. But they're both PINK. :O) Did I mention that he's also a little bit color blind? I think he thinks this shirt is red. Shhh, don't tell him.)