Bo's Haute (Psychedelic) Couture...

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Good Bye,

Hard Life,

Don't Cry,

Would you let it ride?

("Let It Ride", Bachman, Turner Overdrive)

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Okay, I'm in the "preparation" stage for my big upcoming holiday trip down south.

It's back to the train tracks of Amtrak because I'm leaving soon to spend Thanksgiving with my mother at my uncle's place in Louisiana. Then we'll head for Dallas, as we're all going to spend the Christmas holidays at my sister's home. Blaine will meet us there shortly before Christmas when he can take his vacation days. Should prove to be a fun holiday season!

And it should prove to be quite an adventure when my mother and I go to Louisiana for Thanksgiving, since my uncle's home is not accessible by land right now. As you may have seen in my blog post, "Voyage into the Swamps", my uncle lives on the banks of a tributary of the Ouachita River, which has flooded the entire area. Thus, we will have to boat our way from civilization, down the river, to his home, which is safe from the water since it's elevated on 20-foot pylons.

The reason it will be an adventure is because the river is full of hazards such as floating logs and... well... alligators.

Yeah, there are tons of alligators in that river. My uncle has spotted many of them on his property, since he raises specialty roosters and hens, a favorite temptation of hungry 'gators. He says the last 'gator he spotted on his property was about 3 feet long.

I'm not really frightened to go on his boat---my uncle is more than handy with his shotgun. And I definitely wouldn't mind having me a pair of 'gator cowboy boots. (I think a three-footer would be big enough for a pair of size 6 1/2 cowboy boots, what do you think?)

Except I may have to fight my mother for it since she wants a 'gator handbag with a matching belt...

Anyhoo, I'm trying to get all the things in order that I'll take on my long visit with Mom and my family. I need to travel light on the train, but I need enough stuff to last for a month. Not only do I need to do a thorough assessment of what knitting to take, but I need a good sturdy, cropped "rodeo style" jean jacket, which I bought yesterday. (Not the one below--but that one shows one of the way girls decorate their rodeo jean jackets.) (Mine is the one pictured at the top of this post.)

For the shopping expedition, I took the truck and dashed my way around Overland Park and Olathe yesterday, looking for the perfect jean jacket. (And don't worry, I didn't run over any orange cones or construction workers.) Actually, I was feeling pretty good yesterday. Don't know if it was the crisp, sunny fall weather... or the new med Fred stuck me on, who knows....

I live for the day Fred thinks I'm "okay" enough to allow more than 2 weeks to go by between our appointments and he quits fiddling with my meds. (I tell myself he schedules me so often because of my scintillating conversation....)

Where was I?

Oh yeah, I was tooling around town looking for a jean jacket.

Oh, and let me just throw in here that I think certain people will be glad to know that I've been trying to improve my driving since all the hate-mail I got after my road construction debacle. And I think I did pretty well yesterday.....except I am wondering if it counts as "bad driving" if one accidentally goes "in" the "out" lane at the Chik-fil-A drive-thru? It could happen to anybody...

Don't worry--I didn't break my diet. I only ordered a Diet Coke.

Remember that time I pulled into a Sonic booth with Belinda and knocked off part of the ordering loudspeaker? That was definitely an OOPS moment.... (and again, it could happen to anybody....)

Anyway, as I drove around yesterday, I blasted my favorite oldies station on the truck's stereo system. I love oldies, preferably from the 70's or 80's. I don't like today's music because it all sounds alike to me. In fact, I got into a music-blasting competition at a stoplight on the corner of 119th and Pflumm with a girl who was blasting her own radio's music. I won the competition, but I'm not sure if it's the fact that my speakers were louder or else it was my deafening "Rebel Yell" as I peeled rubber when the light turned green. (According to Civil War lore, rebel yells are supposed to be "intimidating". I learned my rebel yell from a Virginian girl named Mary Norpel.)

I think my rebel yell sounds less like a ferocious Civil War Confederate and more like a deranged drugstore cowgirl....

Oh, and one more thing about loud music contests from a vehicle at a stoplight. I told you I like oldies. Most people blast the latest music at stop-lights--- but I blast Santana, The Hollies, or Rod Stewart.

Anyhoo, I found me a good "Wrangler" jean jacket--- a sturdy, cropped "rodeo style" one just like I wanted. But, the thing is, is that for some reason I am unable to wear a plain, unadorned jean jacket....

Fred says it best: "Bo, you just love to wear those wild, crazy colors, don't you?"

(Maybe THAT'S why Fred thinks I need a new med and frequent appointments! Maybe he's waiting for me to walk into his office wearing Talbots or Lands End clothing.... or maybe a pastel colored preppie crew-neck sweater with a short strand of pearls?....Would I be "cured" then?)

Yeah, I do love bright, "crazy" colors---and I don't think I'll ever be cured, heh....

And I'm in an arts & crafts mood right now--- so I'm going to have a lot of fun doing this jean jacket similar to the way I did the above pair of my jeans. I'm going to put some iron-on patches on it to make it "wild and crazy", albeit there's not much room for patches on the jacket due to its seaming.

I think I love to adorn clothing with patches for two reasons. One, I got the idea from a guy at an AA meeting I used to go to in Texas. He had a jean jacket covered with patches like my jeans there, and everybody wanted his cool jacket. He had to wear it all the time because he was afraid that if he took it off and laid it down, somebody would take it. (I did those jeans shortly after seeing his jacket.)

(I used to wear those jeans into the Emergency Room where I worked on my days off, to chat with my buddies, but they told me not to wear the jeans anymore because they were afraid it might "cause a seizure" in a patient....)

So below are some of the iron-on patches that I have to select from to put onto this jean jacket. (I found them all in the Magical Closet.) They're all sequined, except for the large "pink poodle" patch, which I may put on the back of the jacket, dunno yet. (And I'm partial to the "peace" sign and the skull, go figure---must be something strangely Freudian there....)

Actually, I wish I could have found a particular plastic bag in which I've been saving umpteen Harley-Davidson biker patches, but I think I left that bag down at my mother's. I'll have to save those for another jacket, either a leather "biker" jacket or another jean jacket.

The second reason I love patches on my garments may have developed in my salad days, when I was in college and wore cheerleader uniforms with school lettering patches on them. Actually, I went through five (yes, five--- I took my time and wrote my thesis early while in my last year of undergraduate study) years at the university while wearing various cheerleader uniforms with patches, a different uniform for every season, whether football, basketball or wrestling. (Sorry the pic is in black & white but that's how it was in the Yearbook.)

Or maybe it's the new med, who the hell knows?....

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