I know that whenever I write about chores – stacking wood, chopping up Christmas trees, going to the dump (wow, I need some new material) – it always seems like I’m doing these things by myself without help from Dave.

Truth is, I DO do all of those things by myself without help from Dave. That’s just how I work – jump in, get it done, help is welcome (sometimes) but not necessary. And I enjoy it. I like manual labor. There, I said it.

But while I’m outside working my tail off, it’s not like Dave is on the couch eating ice cream and watching Days of Our Lives.

He’s inside working his tail off – fixing servers, taking conference calls, crafting emails, doing installs, building websites, restoring backups for employees who – oops! – wiped out their hard drives… Or he’s working his tail off back in Boston – staying in hotels, going to happy hour, eating ethnic food… You know, working.

Yep, my man works hard. (Ha. MY MAN. I never talk like that.)

And although it may have been my silly little idea to move in the first place, MY MAN is the reason why we’re here, in the Adirondacks, living this life.

He works hard at what he does, he’s good at what he does, he values what he does, and, in turn, he’s valued by his organization. And that’s why it’s all good that we picked up and moved 5 hours away.

And that’s also why so many of the household chores fall to me. MY MAN is busy working, I’ve got nothing better to do, and I’m more than physically capable thanks to this “heavily muscled” frame I was born with.

However, there ARE a couple of chores I prefer not to do. Splitting wood, for example. If left up to me, I would hack off a leg and ruin everyone’s day.

So, the other day, in an effort to save my leg and our day, MY MAN stepped away from the computer and picked up an axe.

It was a sight to behold.

And then he was on such a roll that he decided to patch our driveway.

While I sat on the couch eating ice cream and watching Days of Our Lives.