C&D Mountain Camp, the same tobaccos as Night Bayou but in different proportion for a milder smoke, in a rusticated Luciano billiard with a thick-walled large chambered bowl and a straight saddle stem. This I packed for after supper.
This week I attended the first in three sessions of a sermon writing course, just for the adventure of tackling that form of writing, though I'm in the class with various retired ministers, rabbis, and counselor types. Hearing a minster explain how it's done, and why, and so forth, is revelatory. As he said, people hear the sermon they want to hear. A few will be selected to deliver their work during the summer when the professionals are away. In my one-line intro with my name, I said I was there because I thought I might get a poem out of it. There was a long pause, and then a rattle of laughter.