Horse Pants Blues

Well, folks I've suffered my last stare, my last stink eye, my last slack jawed scowl! I'm done I tell you, "Hallus"!( "enough", in Lebanese, don't ask me the true spelling... but when pronouncing it , start the "h" way back in your throat like your are gonna hoick a loogie!) Horse pants, otherwise known as breeches in the rest of the modern world, are not a well known article of clothing here on the coast. As the none to friendly stares from the natives have proven to me. The roughest spot so far has been the local gas station but hot on its heels is the Food Lion. I LIVE in horse pants and have happily for a decade. It makes me grumpy that it draws any sort of attention here, where racing home to change my pants before errands is a spleen bruising* waste of time.*See earlier posts on our road.

So, I first tried to remember to pack a pair of jeans with me to change into, this failed in many ways. Key word being the "remember" part. Then when I did manage to bring a pair, I had to parade myself past the very people I'm trying to "spare" the apparent horror that my spandex clad buttocks incites. I tried changing in my truck. I'm not sure, but i think this was even more scandalous. Maybe because a truck full of bubbas pulled up next to me at a crucial part in the concealment process. Anyhow I'm not one to bow to peer pressure, but its getting ridiculous. Down by the university, I blend right in with the yoga crowd. Especially if I change out of my smelly horse boots. But out in the country where 98 percent of my clientele reside? Not so much with the blending in.

The search is on for an acceptable pant that is comfy enough to sit in a truck and hop on a horse. I think I have found it in the Bettona pant from athleta. Get this, its a yoga JEAN! It comes in black and has jean-like stitching , faux zipper,rivets and pockets. I am hopeful. I'll give them the old test run when they arrive next week. Man, this small town living is not for the faint of heart! Who knew everyone has a reputation?