Country Mouse Monday: what (not) to wear

I mucked up my freshly-laundered bathrobe (again) this morning, so impatient to be outside that I didn't change into my usual gardening garb.
From the sidewalk, I'm sure I was a sight: bed-head, flannel robe and tevas, gloves and clippers -- but probably all the passers-by are used to it, expect to see us in various states of (un)dress, happily playing in the dirt. I like to think they give us the Eccentric Green-Thumbed Neighbor pass, in return for the glory of this plot of land, cultivated and shared year after year.