Dirt On My Hands
I am the first to admit I can be a little prim and proper regarding dirt and sweat. I have fun memories of playing in the mud as a kid. Didn’t bother me then.
Yesterday, I suggested we go by flowers to plant in our front bed. My husband agreed. But guess what? They don’t transplant themselves.
My job was taking the plants out of the pots, breaking up the soil, and carefully placing them in their new home. My hands got dirty. Black, rich soil even managed to get under my fingernails.
Before you pat me on the back, this was a short project. Only a little dirt and sweat. 😉 The results? Definitely worth getting a little dirt on my hands.