Rockin’ My Bibs 

Dear Farm Journal,
This morning I slipped into my trusty pair of Carhartt bib overalls that I inherited from Rufus, a sure sign of a fall nip in the air. As I go about my day, packing brussels sprouts and beauty heart radishes, and pulling the last of the pepper plants in greenhouse four, I notice my altered stance and gait. There is something about putting on this specific piece of work apparel that puts my mind and body into full farm work mode. I mean, I am in this general mode most of the time, but when I strap into the Carhartts, I take on the physical empowerment of getting shit done. It can be wet, cold, windy, or snowy, yet I feel stouthearted and ready for the day’s challenges. I take on a wide sanguine saunter and an air of masculine poise. I find it fascinating that an article of clothing can have such a mental and physical effect on me. I believe this conversion is due to the meaning I attribute to the Carhartts, the identification with a strong hardworking caliper of humanity. I work until daylight fades and Rufus calls me in for dinner, when I push my chilly hands into deep dirty pockets, embracing my favorite farm fall fashion.

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