Babbs in the Woods: Things that the boys don’t want no more

Mothers and daughters often swap clothes, share clothes and shoes and purses, etc. But, what about mothers and sons? Women and their husbands? Women and their, gulp, fathers-in-law?

Thanks to the men in my life (and Gretchen Wilson), I can define myself as a redneck woman, especially if you look at the “hand-me-downs” I’ve acquired over the years. And, since a picture tells a thousand words, the rest of this blog post will illustrate my point.

CPO jacket: My husband wore  a gold plaid one in high school, and I think I’ve left it at the ranch. Love the colors. He also wore a plaid leisure suit in brown and gold, but that piece of apparel? Well, let’s just say some indigent guy from the men’s indigent home in Dayton, Ohio, purportedly was buried in that suit in the early 198os. And, it will remain intact until Judgment Day, I just know it! It’s polyester!

And even more CPO jackets: From my father-in-law’s collection. He was a cattle rancher in the Ozarks, a son of the Depression and a collector of great wool apparel. I love that I found all his boots in his collection complete with a pair of appropriate socks tucked into each boot. This one, below, is a nice, almost Highlandish plaid  pattern in colors that don’t scream outlandish.

Green Fleece Jacket and barn coat: From my eldest son’s days as a sophomore in high school, when he parted his hair down the middle and played goalie on the soccer team. And, let me tell you … I may have been a “soccer mom,” but my kid was the dang goalie and if that ain’t a stressful situation to be in … you oughta try it sometime! The whole game hinges on whether your kid catches the ball or lets it by his two legs. Doesn’t matter if the defense was standing on the sideline picking their noses or pulling up their socks and five guys (10 legs) from the opposing team brought the ball down the field. It’s your kid’s fault. Great character building exercise for him, and antacid time for mama.

Oldest son's jackets from high school. That means these are about 15 years old, at least.

And my absolute favorite thing? This 1987 Toyota truck, complete with original paint on the cab and that stuff that you paint bed liners with everywhere else, because our baby boy and his dad decided it would be a great cover-up and prevent rust. Love the tough wheels, the four-wheel drive, the fact that I have to put two dang chunks of wood by the back tires when I park it, because the cable to the emergency brake snapped. This is my in-the-woods truck, my haul-the-dog-to-the-vet truck and my haul-the deer-to-the-processing-place truck. I’m sure I’ll come up with some more uses for it, just give me time! And I’m going to keep the fraternity name on the back window, so people think I’m hip.

The Coupe de Gras, the Toyota that takes a lickin' and keeps on drivin'.

  • About Barbara Baird

    Publisher/Editor Barbara Baird is a freelance writer in hunting, shooting and outdoor markets. Her bylines are found at several top hunting and shooting publications. She also is a travel writer, and you can follow her at https://www.ozarkian.com.

     

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