Let's face it: I'm Cheap. I have rusty hinges on my wallet. I will be buried with my first dollar I ever earned and if you try to pry it from my cold dead rigored fingers I'll haunt you forever!
Why do I tell you this? Because I have boot envy.
But they are a hunnert bucks! Or more even. A hunnert bucks for some neoprene and rubber? No way even. Not this guy.
I've resigned myself to the realization that I'll never own a pair and slog on thru the mud in my uninsulated mud boots that I scored at TSC for $10.99. They're good boots. Their pliable rubber keeps the mud and wet away from my feet, but don't do shit for the cold. And it gets cold as shit here.
Just before Christmas I was at the Man's Mall and noticed that they were blowing out all the winter gear. You know how stores are - they get the Halloween stuff out in August and the swim trunks out in January. Anyway, what did I spy on the clearance shelf?
And $24.95! And in my size! You didn't have to ask me twice. Into the cart they went. Christmas was coming home with me.
So why did I need these when I have a perfectly good pair of Rocky Mountain 1200 gram Thinsulate ice-grabbin cold-stompin boots in the basement? Why? It's all about efficiency. I like pull-on boots. Quick and easy, just shloomp and your foot is in. My Rocky's have fourteen feet of shoe laces on each boot. I don't have the time (or patience) to sit down and lace up boots at 4:30 in the morning when I can just shloomp a pair and go. And I don't have the time (or patience) to sit down and unlace when I get back in and my glasses are fogged up and the dogs are trying to help me and I have to pee. Relate?
So I'm all happy with my new Columbia Drylights. Or am I? This post wouldn't be interesting without some twist. Give me a minute while I hobble over to the coffee pot....
Damned near like moccasins. I've got a big ol' bruise right in the middle of mine foot. It hurts, but only when I move, so most of the time I'm ok. How'd I do it? Well, lemme tell ya: I was cleaning the drylot with my Lil' Blue Tractor last weekend. I've got a handy-dandy landscape rake, and it works great for cleaning up all the manure and scraps of uneaten hay. The lil' frozen poopturds follow along in an orderly fashion while I drag them to the corner to be piled up and become future garden soil. I had to stop and move somethin or the other, so I hopped of the tractor and landed just perfectly on one of those lil' frozen poopturds and my clearance-rack boots with their moccasin bottoms offered no support and I got a big ol' bruise on the bottom of my foot.
Cold as shit, I tell you.
Cold as shit, I tell you.