dirt virtue

I like getting showers. No doubt. It feels great. Especially when I have some Dr. Bronner's pure castle hemp oil soapy goodness. I feel good when I'm wearing clean socks and clean underwear. Other than that, I don't mind getting dirty. I might go so far as to say I enjoy being dirty. What's worse than having some nice khakis or a clean shirt--then spilling something on it; or not being able to get on your hands and knees to garden, play with a dog, walk in the rain, or whatever...? That sucks. My wardrobe is built around getting dirty. That is mostly due to the fortunate fact that my job entails getting dirty and I can get away with wearing pants with knee stains around the office on a normal day. In most cases, stains on your knees and dirt on your hands are a measure of good work in my mind.
If you have been suffering from an aversion to soil--go start a garden, or plant a container, and do it without gloves. Break up clods of soil with your fingers and sprinkle them back into place, then wipe your hands on your thighs. Don't change until you've enjoyed one of your favorite drinks (ice water is a good choice) and admired the metaphorical (or perhaps very literal) fruits of your labor. One of my favorite things is plunging my hands deep into a loose, loamy garden bed as if it were a pool of water, then lifting up a pile of cool soil only to dump it back into the new hole and churn it again.
If you've ever seen me try to "dress up"--you should be able to notice the small indicators that prove I am not experienced nor interested in that fine art. I can admit that it can be fun to occassionally dress in suit pants, buttoned shirt, and tie--but it's not comfortable and far from practical. Plus, just as the term "dressing up" implies, it is a better indicator of money spent than hours worked.
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Sidenotes: Congrats to BW graduate Terry "Waste No Time" Love
and Happy Mother's Day to all my moms who have helped shape me into the dirt-loving freak I am