Since I didn’t post as much last week and I even totally spaced on Favorite Friday (gasp!), here is a totally just-for-fun post about the most important person in my life who is on the earth right now.
So, around here, you mostly get to hear from me, Amy. But the truth is, I am married to an awesome, burly, (usually) bearded, lumber jack of a Jesus-lovin’ man. Ben.
Before we got married in 2007, I had a list of attributes that I desired in a husband. Most of these things had to do with spiritual, emotional, and lifestyle compatibility, but I had one desire concerning the physical appearance of my future husband…”That he would have the ability to grow nice facial hair.” I have a high appreciation for a nice beard. No particular reason, I just do.
LOOOONNNGG story short (and dang, do we have a good story-I’ll have to share more on that later), I found my dreamy mountain-looking man right in the middle of Iowa. Most of the time I get my way 😉 and he keeps a nicely trimmed beard. Every once in awhile he even grows it out and really looks wild (I LOVE that!). About once a year, a sad thing happens…springtime.
Springtime is mostly marvelous- fresh air, growing things, exchanging green for the muddied snow along roads- but there is one sad thing that happens. Ben gets this idea in his head that it is time for a change and he shaves the beard off. A few weeks ago, we went on a ski trip with my family to Colorado. Ben decided to grow his hair and beard out for about a month and then when we got back from the trip, he would get a nice short hair cut and shave the beard off.
I thought it should be documented, and he went along with it…
Lookin’ pretty tough, burly, and happy…he’s a real conundrum.
This length of hair is starting to get pretty risky for Ben, he likes to keep it to a neat 1/4 inch.
All trimmed up on the sides, just the goat and top need to go!
All trimmed up and proudly displaying his ski trip battle wound.
Don’t mind the fact that you just got to see different shots of our bathroom, it’s the only non-carpeted space in our apartment. Later, he did in fact make the beard go all the way away. I guess I’ll deal with it…
Thanks Ben for letting me show your purty face on the interwebs! You are da che!
And if you are wondering about “da che”, just know that the random syllables I make up for Ben’s nicknames change so frequently that we don’t even know what they mean anymore.