First entry

 Smoking a tobacco pipe is an act of contemplation and relaxation for me. On days when I am able I begin my day with coffee and a quiet morning pipe. My porch swing is the preferred location when the weather is conducive to sitting in the outdoors, when it is not my shop is a close second.

My bowl this morning was Dan Tobacco Salty Dogs in a Peterson Summertime 2019 606. 

This blend is a very pleasant Virginia with a not so subtle rum casing. You still get the wonderful hay and citrus notes of any Virginia forward tobacco but the rum really plays well.

These pandemic days are really playing with my head as of late. When this thing kicked off in February I was certain it would blow over quickly...unfortunately I was very wrong. My two children are still being schooled from home and my poor wife has become a full time teacher on top of mother and homemaker. We are each struggling to carve out our own strip of personal space in our small home and mine has mostly been my tobacco cellar in the basement when I'm not smoking a bowl in either of my preferred spots. At the moment I sit in my cellar having just looked through things. I currently have in the neighborhood of 55 pounds of pipe tobacco and probably a lifetime supply of nasal snuff tucked away. I am constantly seeking ways to pack my tobacco efficiently, mostly out of boredom as opposed to necessity. At this point my filled Mason jars, mylar bags and new unopened tins are clearly in about the most well thought out configuration they are likely to see until their rest is over and they are finally smoked. As I've said, this is mostly an act of boredom and not necessity.

I often think about the hobby of pipe smoking and how my pipe smoking ancestors would look at my horde of tobacco. Most pipe smokers from bygone eras smoked one, maybe two pipes and rarely had more than one blend on hand at a time. Most likely a tub of Prince Albert that they would contentedly puff on until the last scrap of tobacco was gone. They would then, without a second thought go to the drugstore and no doubt purchase a tub of the exact same blend and continue the same ritual. They would be baffled by my reasoning for owning 50 pipes and hundreds of different tobacco blends...let alone having over 50 pounds of the stuff. All while continuing to purchase more. Oh the head shaking they would do. My wife is a Saint for tolerating it as she does. My biggest fear is that should I suffer a premature death she will sell the lot for what I've told her I paid for it!

Pipes are a labyrinth few of us wander through. Seeking the secrets to unlocking the wonderful flavors available via that miracle leaf, tobacco. I call it a hobby because for those seeking nothing more than a dance with Lady Nicotine there are much easier and readily available paths to tread. To find enjoyment from a pipe there is a learning curve that must be followed and an understanding that the learning will virtually never end. There are surprises to be found and epiphanies to celebrate which open the doors of flavor and enjoyment. With these come inevitable frustrations which must be weathered to obtain the prizes along the path. The hobby isn't for the inpatient or those seeking instant gratification for these traits will ultimately lead the virgin pipe smoker to an unending battle between man and pipe. These types generally leave the hobby before finding the fruit. If you are curious, or already a subscriber then stick around and read along. Ask questions and contribute to the conversation. Pathways are better forged by groups then individuals. Let's explore together!