When I pulled into the driveway after work, my heart skipped a beat.
In front of me, two white strips of fresh gravel stretched for a quarter of a mile.
In the pastures, white gravel dotted all the gate entrances.
Best. Gift. Ever.
When you live on a farm, you learn to love gravel.
Instead of frozen ground and snow, we've had rain and mud this winter. High traffic areas, like at the pasture gates, developed into boot-sucking muddy bogs. New potholes sprouted in the driveway daily.
But then the sun came out, and temperatures soared into the 60s.
On the fourth sunny day, my husband ordered tons and tons of gravel, and spent his day off work spreading it.
And, I am all smiles.