That phrase was uttered by Andy this morning, right after he took a look at me in my power-washing get-up: glasses (since my eyes were too sensitive for contacts after yesterday’s power-washing experience), jeans tucked into knee-high rubber boots, an old T-shirt belonging to Andy, purple bandanna covering my pony tailed head (purple, to match my purple plastic apron) and a lovely mask, similar to this one, to block all of the debris from flying into my eyes again. I was pretty…ugly.

Then, to add insult to injury, Mom and Mellisa were cracking up when I walked up to the shop. Good thing they didn't have a camera with them, since they threatened to take a picture!
Why do men look ruggedly handsome when they're farming - dirt, manure, and whatever else might be mucking them up?