It's been a damp day walking the hound in search of fresh bear trails. Only one remedy: to pack a bowl of my grandfather's blend, step straight back out to his favorite deck, and sit with a book.
He favored the smaller Dr. Grabow pipes versus my beloved cobs. I'll need to procure a couple. As many memories as the scent of Borkum Riff bourbon whiskey blend brought back, the room note just isn't quite the same as from a medium chambered briar. A simple and relatively inexpensive fix is in order.
A small jar has already been stuffed full of the bourbon blend to bring on the weekend's bear hunt. Will have to make my lunch a buttered sandwich of canned corned beef salad with his ever-present sweet pepper relish and toast it over a fire beside a mountain brook while puffing the thin and sharp aromatic.