Hubs’ Work Clothes…

I find it very difficult to throw away an old pair of tennies that have done their job.

I stash them in the garage and think,

“I’ll wear those in the garden or when I’m painting or pottering around.”

I end up wearing crocs or wellies, or cowboy boots.  The tennies languish in the mudroom and are eventually forgotten, lying in the bottom of a crate or stuffed into a metal utility cupboard.

I am a little better with jeans that have had their day.  I’ll cut them off in the summer and wear them short with an old white t-shirt that’s gone grey from one too many washes or has rust stains and enamel paint that no amount of bleaching will shift.

Hubs is good about wearing old shoes that no longer live in his closet.

They go on outings when he rides his mower, or cuts back the trees, or cleans out the septic.

He pairs them with his cutoffs topped with paint splattered t’s like mine.

He pops a large cowboy hat on his head to complete the farm-hand look.

Due to the physical nature of ranching his work clothes take more of a beating than mine.

I just potter in my garden, digging holes, watering, sowing seeds, transplanting cuttings.

I may get snagged by a holly bush, bitten by chiggers or splashed with weed-killer.  Off may attract dirt, and spray paint may drift in the wind covering my shorts, and the glider I’m renovating, with a coating of yellow Rustoleum, streaking my hair, speckling my face, painting my nails.  But nothing that renders my outfit inappropriate.

Hubs’ shorts get ripped on tree branches and thorns and twisted re-bar lying in wait in the woods…


…snagged beyond conventional repair by saw blades and rusty screws, barbed wire and clippers.

He can’t throw them out,

“They’re my work clothes, what else would I wear?”

“What would you say you’re wearing right now?” I ask, grinning.

“Don’t make fun of my shorts,” he cautions and gives them a new lease of life with a roll of tape he finds in the kitchen drawer.


I find other examples of his creativity when I put away the laundry,

clever piecing together of ripped fabric to see him through another day with modesty.


Hubs’ work-clothes are on display in his rancher-wardrobe as part of a new line of clothing,

familiar and well worn trousers and shorts,

bursting with tales of a well lived life,

proudly flaunting their war-wounds ingeniously patched with random strips of duct-tape.

The Gape and Tape Collection.


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2017-09-14 15:39:04 Reply

Ok! Now Thats Funny!

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