THE 'REAL' COWGIRL'S FASHION STATEMENT

FASHION STATEMENT

Come winter in the Cariboo
I make a fashion statement
By wearing dud's a rancher's wife
Can find in bargain basements.

For every rip and stain contains
A story, maybe two,
About what ranch life's really like
Up here in Cariboo.

My warm wool socks were spun
And knitted by a neighbor's hand.
No, not the wife's; the pattern here
Was fashioned by a man.

Next come the ski pants, though on me
They've never slid a hill.
I split the seams while pulling calves
And throwing hogs some swill.

My man says I should toss these pants.
The fabric has gone rotten.
But none of those at Sally Ann
Will fit my queen-sized bottom.

My wool coat's lost the zipper,
And the buttons barely cling.
But it's seen front-line duty
And for chores this coat is king.

The stain right here? It's from
A newborn needing extra care.
His mum had two but didn't want
The second of the pair.

We know we should have left her.
Those cow mamas know the score,
But we can't let a baby die
Just because it's doing poor.

The boots cost me six bits,
And now the sole's begun to split.
But when I don three pairs of socks,
They're still a perfect fit.

I could, of course, buy new ones,
But they cost a lot of dough.
We spend it all to keep
This operation on the go.

On windy days I wear a scarf
To keep my neck from freezing,
Not Isadora Duncan-style
But tucked, unless I'm sneezing.

Then one end is a tissue,
And the other is a rag.
I wipe my nose and dry a calf
And clean the new mum's bad.

My cheeks and nose have been frostbit
So when the weather drops
To minus 30 Fahrenheit
I pull out all the stops.

I wear a balaclava
Like a thief in cheap disguise.
The only things exposed are just
Two nostrils, lips and eyes.

The nostrils drip; the mask
Gets crusted up with salty ice.
I scared the barn cat so
The feline scratched me twice.

My mittens have more color now,
From cleaning newborns' bums.
I toss them in the rag bag
Till the year's first blizzard comes.

It's when I don my hoser hat
My outfit is complete.
I look the part I'm playing
From my head down to my feet.

I wouldn't win a prize for style,
This chore-oufitted wife.
I'd pass for Michelin tires man
But it suits our way of life.

                    - Cathryn Wellner
                      Pioneer Ranch
                      Alberta, Canada