My days on the farm, my days during fairs and shows and my days helping on other farms are all marked by a pair of wash boots.  Well, I guess several pairs of wash boots.

My Dad always told me that my feet would get too cold in the winter. But, I wore them anyways. My Mom always told me my feet would get too hot during the summer. But, I wore them anyways.

To me, wash boots were the most practical thing that one could wear. No matter what crap you come across, you can trudge right on through it, and all you need is a hose to clean up.

There were several times though, that I did question my judgement about my love for wearing wash boots all the time.

The first time that I questioned the wearing of my beloved wash boots was a sticky summer day. It was hot and humid, and we had gotten enough rain the night before to make the pastures extra muddy and the puddles extra deep.

Being the sticky day it was, of course the cows found an area where the electric fence was down.

My Dad, uncle, sisters and I headed out to round up the cows. The middle of the pasture was pretty muddy, so we stuck to the grassy outter edge of the lot. At some point, I was determined not to let a heifer out of my sight, and ventured a little bit too far into the muddy center of the lot.

For a couple minutes, it was just fine. My feet would sink a little too far, but I kept walking and pulling them out as a I went. But that didn’t last very long. The next thing I knew, I was thigh deep in mud.

Do you know what happens to rubber boots that are under heavy mud? They suction themselves to your legs. So not only could I not move, I could not get my feet out of my boots to try to move.

Everyone else had been smart enough to stay on the grassy edge of the pasture, so I wasn’t even within arms distance for someone to help me out.

That was quite the day. Needless to say, there’s still a pair of wash boots under that mud somewhere out in the pasture.

Because my wash boots are such a staple in my life, they were obviously sitting in the farm office waiting for me to slip them on when I returned home. In the aftermath of the fire, I have thus far only been able to find one wash boot.

At first, seeing one, single wash boot really upset me. But then I realized, there have been so many times over the years that I have lost a pair of wash boots.

The fire that recently caused the loss of another pair of boots is just another muddy pasture that we have to get out of. Though it can take quite awhile to get out of thigh deep mud, it can be done. And I am certain, that Farm and Fleet has a size 8 pair of wash boots calling my name.