FROGS AND PIPES
Nothing new here late tomorrow evening. Regular gibbering will recommence on Sunday.
It’s a holiday.
Tonight will be Pesach with the grownups, tomorrow we’ll be throwing rubber frogs across the dinner table.
And there is nothing wrong with rubber frogs. Flying frogs are a great good.
When I imagine World Peace, I see rubber frogs.
Oh, and very real frogs too.
From which you may conclude that I like frogs. Which is correct. Very much so.
I also like toads – they’re far less skittish, besides being calm and thoughtful – but frogs have an elegant perky beauty.
All good narratives should include frogs.
I wish all my readers a chag kasher ve sameach.
Or lots of happy hoppy ribbity frogs.
Whichever you prefer.
In other news, I counted my hoard of super-aged tobacco late last night.
Enough thirty year old Balkan Sobranie to last half a year. Mostly white.
Several tins of other stuff that hasn’t been available for decades.
A number of unopened canisters of Drucquer & Sons blends of similar antique age.
Trafalgar. Blend 805. Menlo. Levant. Arcadia. Etcetera.
This pursuant yesterday's monthly get-together of the pipe club.
Today I had some Red Virginia Flake before lunch.
And taunted some of the cigar smokers.
I’ve had a splendid morning.
Life is very good.
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