Great minds my friend, great minds!
What Are You Smoking June 2020
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Kevin Keith
- Grand Poobah
- Posts: 9373
- Joined: Sun Apr 22, 2018 3:59 pm
- Location: Texas
FJB
Vote Trump 2024!
Vote Trump 2024!
Checking the time of my previous post, I see that it was 6:36p. I posted, arose to get a glass of iced tea (water for me) and fell back into my easy chair, doubled up in fairly severe pain. Tried several interventions. Wife and I are both retired RNs and I enlisted her help, and we worked on that for a few hours until I found relief, and fell into a deep sleep for an hour, maybe. No rest for the weary, but a smoke on the veranda seemed a wonderful idea.
Loaded half a Big Pipe bowl of Cheyenne Gold, grabbed a glass of tea, put Bach's Harpsichord Concerto in D Minor turned low on the outside speakers and stepped into the sleeping night of Woodcrest Estates. And lit up.
The cool night with the whisper of a breeze proved a perfect companion for a relaxing pain-free smoke and the quiet music. Thanked the Good Lord for another mostly pleasant day on the right side of the dirt, and for all the blessings He sends us all daily, so many we miss most of them, just taking them for granted. Not proselytizing here, just explaining my mood as affected by my worldview.
Dust To Dust
by Try Cob
I am but dust with feet of molded clay,
sprung from the ground as surely as my food.
And destined to return there some fine day.
Why then speak of evil, or of good?
I sing of life and love, of longing lust,
sprung from the heart as surely as my blood.
And fated to confer my voice to rust,
but still I sing and ride this spirit-flood.
Sip the wine, my friend, while it is day;
this warmth of sun grows cold as comes the night.
Forget the past for it no more has sway.
Forget the future once you thought so bright.
Time moves swiftly, people are but grass.
All our beauty fades as does a flower.
The grass then withers as the flower fades;
the breath of life affords us but an hour.
I am but dust with feet of molded clay,
sprung from the ground where I obtain my power.
And destined to return there some fine day
to spring forth living roses after showers.
Loaded half a Big Pipe bowl of Cheyenne Gold, grabbed a glass of tea, put Bach's Harpsichord Concerto in D Minor turned low on the outside speakers and stepped into the sleeping night of Woodcrest Estates. And lit up.
The cool night with the whisper of a breeze proved a perfect companion for a relaxing pain-free smoke and the quiet music. Thanked the Good Lord for another mostly pleasant day on the right side of the dirt, and for all the blessings He sends us all daily, so many we miss most of them, just taking them for granted. Not proselytizing here, just explaining my mood as affected by my worldview.
Dust To Dust
by Try Cob
I am but dust with feet of molded clay,
sprung from the ground as surely as my food.
And destined to return there some fine day.
Why then speak of evil, or of good?
I sing of life and love, of longing lust,
sprung from the heart as surely as my blood.
And fated to confer my voice to rust,
but still I sing and ride this spirit-flood.
Sip the wine, my friend, while it is day;
this warmth of sun grows cold as comes the night.
Forget the past for it no more has sway.
Forget the future once you thought so bright.
Time moves swiftly, people are but grass.
All our beauty fades as does a flower.
The grass then withers as the flower fades;
the breath of life affords us but an hour.
I am but dust with feet of molded clay,
sprung from the ground where I obtain my power.
And destined to return there some fine day
to spring forth living roses after showers.
Forget the past for it no more holds sway;
forget the future once you thought so bright.
forget the future once you thought so bright.
Butz-Choquin Maitre Pipier – Fait Main (handmade) – a beautiful pipe I purchased right at the spot in Saint-Claude/France – quite a lot of money then in the early 90ies ... filled with Savinelli „Leonardo“ blend with bit of Dunhill Nightcap on top
Thank you and it's a good smoker as well. I believe it's probably a 2nd because of the number of fills it has. Most of them are tiny and hardly noticeable, but there's probably 15 or so.
American by birth, Southern by the grace of God!
ROLL TIDE ROLL!!
ROLL TIDE ROLL!!
