About the Author
  • Anne has worked in agriculture since she was old enough to sweep the floor of the family machine shed. She writes about rural & outdoor life from the most remote county seat in the Lower 48, where she and her husband chase two children. Her experience ranges from picking apricots in 100 degree weather and working with Hutterite colonies, to discussing ag trade with the Ambassador of New Zealand and judging cured meats.
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Little Black Boots: The Terrain of Love

by Anne_Miller_mt ‎02-15-2014 12:35 AM - edited ‎02-15-2014 01:00 AM

185864_10150108916302473_5870234_n.jpgIt is Valentine’s Day and nothing says I love you like a new pair of hiking boots. I’m not even joking. Today, the husband convinced me to swap out the pair of Danner boots that I purchased in college, about 20 minutes before my first welding class, and give my macho self a little rest. Literally. As in the new boots weigh at least ¼ of the weight of the old and don’t need oiled.

 

Granted, my beloved Danners still have a place in my life. They survived a year building trails in Montana. They survived felling my first tree in the woods. They’ve been trampled by livestock, been silent witness to welding “episodes” of which we will not speak, and pounded alongside our rural fire engines.  And most importantly, they were on when I met my husband for the first time at a sheep sale. Some girls have a little black dress….I happen to have little black boots.

 

1291896_10151641916222473_2071022654_o.jpgBut it is possible to honor the old way of doing things while accepting changes for the better. The terrain of my husband and I’s romance has changed enough over the past eight years to warrant new footwear. We’ve built a log house together with our own two hands (and a lot of sympathetic friends that didn’t want us squished); we’ve grinned ear to ear over the first hay crop on OUR OWN property; we’ve spent sleepless nights as new parents wondering what the heck we were doing (and if we’d survive). Our concept of a “date” has gone from dinner at a fancy restaurant with heels (yes, I do actually own other footwear) to hanging out at home, eating leftovers and reading side by side.

 

And at some point in our busy lives, it no longer mattered which of us did the laundry as long as there was clean underwear. There have been close calls reminding us to hold hands whenever possible. The terrain has changed but the adventure is the same.  I’m married to my best friend. And every day is new.

 

Happy Valentine's Day! How has your romance changed for the better?

Comments
by Nordely
on ‎02-28-2014 01:51 AM

What a beautiful story! Thank you for sharing.