My dad, Paul Muhlenkamp, was a tough ole farmer. He always had really bad eyes, was strong as a man could be, and his hands seemed to have callouses an inch thick.
I’ll never forget the day we were getting the cows in from a pasture and came upon a old pine gate that had been broken down by the cows. It needed fixed so the cows wouldn’t get out but we had no tools. Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a few 7 penny nails. He always had nails in his pocket. He proceeded to drive 3 nails into the gate to make temporary repairs using the palm of his hand as a hammer. No blood anywhere, just a dent in one of his monster callouses. He’s been dead a long time now. I hope I get to see him again in heaven, and I hope he has soft hands from laying around doing nothing for a change.