Wrote off overalls long ago. Duluth firehose cargo pants and a heavy khaki work shirt. With the crud I get into, BossHen is often waiting at the back door with the firehose and a bar of Lava....entry to the house denied until I surrender the offending garments. (mudroom has become Mud's Room)
The worst is usually after a bridge fire. Mooks has heard a few of those stories.
mudchickenBossHen is often waiting at the back door
Back when smoking was allowed in places like our banquet hall, one of the folks who often oversaw events when we rented the building out would often come home and strip at the back door because of the smell of cigarette smoke that permeated his clothes.
Larry Resident Microferroequinologist (at least at my house) Everyone goes home; Safety begins with you My Opinion. Standard Disclaimers Apply. No Expiration Date Come ride the rails with me! There's one thing about humility - the moment you think you've got it, you've lost it...
BossHen once explained to the current El Heffe' that I got up in the morning, chugged downed breakfast, went outside and rolled in the dirt at least twice before going to work. The look on his face was priceless. Comes with the turf.
Could be worse. I once had a summer job for exactly one day at a tar paper plant, not unlike a paper mill. Needless to say, I had to take off my work clothes before Mom would let me in the house. The work clothes were thrown out and US Steel called right after I got home to offer me a job in their steel warehouse, which I accepted immediately.
mudchicken BossHen once explained to the current El Heffe' that I got up in the morning, chugged downed breakfast, went outside and rolled in the dirt at least twice before going to work. The look on his face was priceless. Comes with the turf.
She who has no signature! cinscocom-tmw
CSSHEGEWISCH Could be worse. I once had a summer job for exactly one day at a tar paper plant, not unlike a paper mill. Needless to say, I had to take off my work clothes before Mom would let me in the house. The work clothes were thrown out and US Steel called right after I got home to offer me a job in their steel warehouse, which I accepted immediately.
When my brother and I picked tobacco growing up, Mama made us leave a clean outfit just inside the back door before leaving, and directed us to strip and change when we got back home. The dirty clothes were thrown outside, and after we showered we were responsible for putting them into a washtub with a liberal dose of laundry detergent and water. The next day we changed the water/detergent mix and added the clothes from that day, and same thing the day after that (our cousin's tobacco field where we were working took about 3 days for the crew to go through). Twenty-four to 48 hours after the last clothes were added, we had to wring out the whole pile, and only then was it clean enough to go into the washing machine. Picking tobacco was undoubtedly the nastiest job I ever had, and I didn't miss it one bit after I didn't have to do it any more.
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