OJK in a 1950ish Kaywoodie Dublin.
***What Are You Smoking, March 2025?***
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Passing the quarter mark of this bowl of year 2024 Edward G. Robinson's Pipe Blend in a 2014 Basil Meadows smooth slight bend squashed tomato with an aluminum band and a black pearl acrylic stem in the military mount style. Fed Sleepy Suzy and Molly, and all the ferals except for the absent Abner the Eager. I usually see less of him when Spring arrives, but not this little. I'm supposing he's spending more time at his home now. Ice water and bergs is my drink. Going to check on the estate pipes now.
This post poses a question that I've often wondered . . . . how often and how do you (and others) clean pipes? Enquiring minds want to know. Y'all know I'm anal and investigate everything thorougly before I commit. Make lots of mistakes . . . I clean mine every third smoke, but ?????
And, you have some absolutely magnificent pipes in that basket! I'm sitting here drooling.
Class of 2010, National War College commissioned Boswell Poker with C&D Exclusive and a cup of Russian Caravan tea.
Fantastic read. Thanks for posting this.View attachment 379232
I'm a little late to the party, but I'm now smoking Peter Stokkebye Luxury Bullseye Flake in a Peterson Aran.
I've been drinking JC Tradicional, and I just finished eating some carne picada tacos. I would like to say a word about Irish identity in the diaspora.
Ireland has always had a special connection with Iberia. Whether historically accurate or not, the belief that the Gaels originated in Galicia has birthed a real connection, especially after the explosion of Christian sectarianism in Northern Europe and England's colonialism and atrocities in Ireland. This has greatly impacted the history of the diaspora in the Americas.
I am fond of saying, "Los Irlandeses somos un tipo de Latinos" - we Irish are a type of Latino. Irish monks preserved the Latin language in the dark ages at a time when it was being mutilated on the continent by the attempts of Germanic interlocutors to use it as a vernacular language.
After the beginning of the plantation of Ireland, Irishmen fled to any nation which would give them them the opportunity to kill Englishman, especially France, Spain, and Portugal. This tradition continued in the Americas. A large cohort of Irishmen fought for Mexico against the the Englishman to the north, more than once. There were Irishmen among the Libertadores, two in leaders in particular, companions of Simon Bolivar - Juan McKenna and Bernardo O'Higgins. O'Higgins would go on the plant stakes in Chile, where a lake, a town, and a professional football club bear his name to this day. Mckenna would later die in a duel in Argentina.
In Mexico, abuelas to this day recite an incantation when applying Vick's to the chests of their grandchildren - "Sana, sana, colita de rana." This has been proven to be una brujería Irlandese, an Irish spell.
Cultural literacy has always been a characteristic of genuine Irish identity. Even our oral history preserves this fact, as the Gaels knew themselves not to be the indigenous people of Ireland. A battle was fought, and despite defeat, the king of the indigenous fir bolg was maimed, and thus ineligible for leadership by the law of the land. Through true democracy and meritocracy, both parties agreed to the election of a Gaelic king.
It is a natural consequence of entering modernity as a tribal people. Modern race theory never reached us. Your people are the people you live amongst. In most cases, this led to assimilation. In the Americas, the Irish found tribal people speaking the language of colonizers. Even before this, gaining some grasp or Spanish and/or Portuguese was an Irish tradition. It gave us legs to fly from our troubles and live freely among fellow Catholics.
When my grandmother was born in this country, Harvard still utilized textbooks which were emphatic - the Irish are NOT white people. Their biggest complaint? We were serial misceginators. In the Anglo mind, even the blacks could be lauded for learning by this time to stick to their own. But not those swarthy Irish monkeys.
St. Patrick's day in the US is mostly a racist farce. Ireland has a high proportion of gingers, but they are still a small minority. Every male in my family prior to me are 'black Irish' - permanently tanned and black haired. This was the common conception of the Irish before intermingling began. Even still, Irish is not a race. Their are Irish people of all races. Irish alcoholism is, like most examples of this phenomenon, the consequence of trauma. St. Patrick's day is just that, the Catholic feast day of a great missionary saint who formed Irish identity by leading us out of pagan darkness to the truth of Christ. St. Patrick was not Irish. He was a Romanized Briton, formerly enslaved on a barbaric pagan island. But again, it is a Catholic feast day, and to celebrate it as anything else to bastardize it and misunderstand Irish identity.
I'm not sure what my point is - I'm feelin warm and goin off, but I firmly believe that the majority of people who claim to be Irish are not. It's not so genetic, it's a culture, a tribal identity, a collective attitude. Tribal identity is fluid. This reality caused many of us to disappear into the people's we fled to, but the very fact of our assimilation and contribution to the cultures of those who welcomed us is exactly what makes us unique among most European peoples.
And for the record, 'Scots-Irish' or 'Ulster-Scots' people are not Irish. They are Scots who moved to Ulster to commit human rights abuses against the Irish during the plantation. They are thieves and brigands, historically despicable evil peoples. And many of them brought that skill set to America to work as overseers of enslaved people on this continent. That's why the battle flag of the confederacy is a St. Andrews cross. It's also why the flag of Jamaica is a St. Andrews cross.
So cheers to Margaret Thatchers stroke, the Queen's death, the Pope's recovery, and the nation of Montserrat. Have a taco, pray a rosary, learn another language, curse James Balfour and the state of Israel, and judge people on the basis of their values and behavior. We cannot be destroyed or subsumed, because we are God's people, in every color we come, and the gates of hell will not prevail against His Church. Amen.
P.S. - report me, no me importa un chingón
Being half English and half Polish, I'm enjoying this immensely.I should offer the very confusing, sectarian caveat that the Scots actually are Irish. Just not the loyalists and plantationers
Still thieves and brigands though, the very Irishmen who stole the land of Scotland
Shades of the violin world I inhabited . . . . I've played dozens upon dozens of unnamed but masterful violins in my tenure as a weekend demoguy and minor repairman at the old Strad Shop in Vancouver in my university days. As I have mentioned before, violins are valued as art objects like paintings, not because of any inherent quality. There are also many fake labels inside we discovered, and lots of Nonami violins that were stellar and big names that were duds. That's the skinny.
This retired life has more arduous labor than I was used to lawyering.
I was up to haul the trash all the way to the street before dawn and open up the chicken coop, then rose again at crack of noon to gather three eggs and fix another pot of Yuban smoking Prince Albert Cherry Cavendish in my gleaming Made in England C.B. Perkins Supreme #296 Canadian that cost me a whole $18.75 plus postage and taxes the gosh darned gubbermint levies that took the total up to $26 delivered.
My lovely wife fixed me dinner but it was poppy seed and broccoli laden so I nuked a couple of hot dogs with Kraft cheese and French’s mustard.
And she ordered me to feed the chickens some lentil she sprouted for a treat.
Any time I get sorta rebellious anout being a chore slave I recall a Merele Haggard song my dear angel mother made me memorize.
Chores 1994
After I feed them there chickens we are going to clean up her kitchen and dining room, you know?
Our youngest boy turned 31 yesterday, and we are having him a birthday party.
I was up to haul the trash all the way to the street before dawn and open up the chicken coop, then rose again at crack of noon to gather three eggs and fix another pot of Yuban smoking Prince Albert Cherry Cavendish in my gleaming Made in England C.B. Perkins Supreme #296 Canadian that cost me a whole $18.75 plus postage and taxes the gosh darned gubbermint levies that took the total up to $26 delivered.
My lovely wife fixed me dinner but it was poppy seed and broccoli laden so I nuked a couple of hot dogs with Kraft cheese and French’s mustard.
And she ordered me to feed the chickens some lentil she sprouted for a treat.
Any time I get sorta rebellious anout being a chore slave I recall a Merele Haggard song my dear angel mother made me memorize.
Chores 1994
After I feed them there chickens we are going to clean up her kitchen and dining room, you know?
Our youngest boy turned 31 yesterday, and we are having him a birthday party.
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Bowl eleven for the Celebi, gonna make the most of today’s decent weather before the rest of the week’s sours.
One of my all time favorite blends, especially with some age, this is from 2019, C&D "Star of the East" in a Lane Era Charatans Make 211. It's one of their "outsized" pipes. I believe that's what they called them. It's just a big pipe.
My condolences on her loss
Had a refill with Irish Flake, then another with Ryback+P.
Dang, I wish I could get right to the point. But nooooooo, I have to write a novel.....with pictures.
A Meer of OGS sounds just as good as my long winded nonsense.
Some very old SG Navy Flake in a Savinelli.
Old Joe Krantz in a small DM Stanwell. 
Heading outback to Pitch some Baseball’s to the neighbor kid and to smoke a couple pipes as well.
I had a Peterson House Pipe Billiard come in with a TAD order so it and a Pub Pipe are now loaded with GH Kendal #7 Shag Cut for some patio smokes in a few and Diet Coke on the side.
I had a Peterson House Pipe Billiard come in with a TAD order so it and a Pub Pipe are now loaded with GH Kendal #7 Shag Cut for some patio smokes in a few and Diet Coke on the side.
On the menu for my commute to work this morning was my typical C&D Billy Budd loaded in my trusty Pete and paired with black coffee.
Hope you all have a great
Tuesday 
Hope you all have a great
Tuesday
Life is still a bit erratic, but had certainly one of the very best smokes I've ever had last night. Steamworks in the Oriental dedicated McQueen Miniature "Fable". These miniature jobs have miniscule bowls, and are very fodder sensitive. But they love crumble cakes and flakes when downsized a bit. My tastebuds were on overdrive and I hauled a full 25 minutes of bliss. Had to frame this one in gold!
Skippable verbage and downside under the photo.
Skippable Verbage: Above smoke and the incredible tobacco were about as perfect as I've ever experienced, but ogres rose from the depths.
Figuring that my tastebuds were red hot and in overdrive, I proceeded to pack the also dedicated McQueen Miniature "Barrel Rider" with "Mad Fiddler," probably my favourite tobacco, although I think that Steamworks might be in the running. Expecting a religious experience, I was promptly dumped into Purgatory. After an iffy six or seven minutes, the smoke went sour. If I had never smoked MF before, and this was my first smoke with it, I'd never have bought another tin.
This experience appears to be part of my learning curve. I simply prefer smokes of about a 50 - 60 minutes duration and really need a break (always have). I also do not like smoking a pipe until at least two hours after eating. Just gets in the way of the tastebuds, to me at least.
Going to repeat this smoke with MF and the also dedicated Ropp J16 and see what transpires. No pipe until then I'd think . . . .
Skippable verbage and downside under the photo.
Skippable Verbage: Above smoke and the incredible tobacco were about as perfect as I've ever experienced, but ogres rose from the depths.
Figuring that my tastebuds were red hot and in overdrive, I proceeded to pack the also dedicated McQueen Miniature "Barrel Rider" with "Mad Fiddler," probably my favourite tobacco, although I think that Steamworks might be in the running. Expecting a religious experience, I was promptly dumped into Purgatory. After an iffy six or seven minutes, the smoke went sour. If I had never smoked MF before, and this was my first smoke with it, I'd never have bought another tin.
This experience appears to be part of my learning curve. I simply prefer smokes of about a 50 - 60 minutes duration and really need a break (always have). I also do not like smoking a pipe until at least two hours after eating. Just gets in the way of the tastebuds, to me at least.
Going to repeat this smoke with MF and the also dedicated Ropp J16 and see what transpires. No pipe until then I'd think . . . .
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I decided to have another smoke before afternoon chores.
Ropp J16 with Watch City, Bi-Polar and the rest of the tea.
Ropp J16 with Watch City, Bi-Polar and the rest of the tea.