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I took off yesterday to do a few chores.  Heat tape for the water lines, some insulation stripping for the doors and checking on some insulated coveralls for me for when I need to be out this winter doing stuff outside.  So like all good country livin folk, I head for… Rural King!

Let me tell ya… I LOVE this place!  I could wander for hours through the aisles, crammed with things that meet both the domestic side of me as well as the mechanical/outdoor girl I’ve become over the years.  I can bounce between the housewares and the hunting gear and be totally content.

Off I go … only to be distracted when I first walked in the store by trying on bomber caps and thinking of Elmer Fudd but my goodness those things are warm and soft and furry and aren’t they so ugly they’re neato???  Once the people around me quit laughing, I threw it in the cart, admitting to myself that it WILL keep me warm this winter.

A far cry from the dressier winter hats I used to have for my winter coat… but oh I love this hat!

One quick left turn and I find myself at the coveralls… a long huge wall filled with golden brown, stiff as a board, corduroy collared coveralls that can stand up in a corner by themselves without a body in them.

Protesting the fact to myself that these things are NOT cut for women, I prove the fact by trying one on.  With the waist where it’s supposed to be and fitting quite well, the top of this thing is another matter.  I look like the StaPuff marshmallow man!  I could walk into the grocery store and stuff ten 20 pound turkeys into this thing and STILL have room.

“See?  It doesn’t fit right”  I said to myself with a smug grin as I danced from one foot to the other trying to get them off and keep my balance. I knew I needed something like this to keep me warm this winter when I was outside in the frigid lake wind, but I thought I was saved from a huge fashion mistake.

I’m here to tell you that it didn’t work… “Try the bibs.  They fit women a lot better.”  Thank you Mr Salesperson lurking at the other end of the aisle.

So I did the hop and dance number again trying on the bibs with a small pout…. which fit.  Which went in the cart… I had no choice… at least they fit!

My hat will not match my coveralls but at least I’ll be warm.

Driving back through the country, I thought about how life has changed… my winterwear is now ‘chic mismatched durable” rather than “chic”.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world!

And then I thought about how life’s gone full circle.  I remember the same hop and dance number performed with my mom’s help as she bundled my brother and I into snowsuits and boots and hats and mittens for what invariably would be a two minute romp in the snow before we’d have to come in to go to the bathroom… only to repeat the hop and dance process again.

Why do I get the feeling that that’s gonna happen again?  Only this time without Mom’s help.

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