.
The Cigar

A few days ago, my 24 year old nephew was showing me his new house. He was just painting and getting much of his furniture moved in. In the entry way he had placed a newly purchased table that was designed to sit behind a davenport or sofa, but that he instead felt worked well in this location. On top of the table was a beautiful, gnarled grained box approximately 12 inches by 12 inches and 6 inches thick.

I was looking at the box appreciatively. I lifted the lid to the box, and lo and behold, to my surprise, it was a cigar humidor! And inside were roughly a dozen cigars of various shapes and sizes.

He offered me a very nice, wide gauge cigar, which I thanked him for and stuck in the pocket of the tweed sport coat I was wearing. I then forgot about it for a day.

On New Year's Eve, my wife was tired and went to bed within moments after midnight. Yet, I was still wide awake. I didn't feel like sleeping. Happily I was wearing the same sport coat, and happened to notice the cigar in the pocket.

I then had a plan. I took the cigar, and put it in my shirt pocket, took off my sport coat and instead slipped into my winter barn coat. I opened a fresh bottle of wine (my wife and I had finished the other bottle shortly before midnight), and took it and a large glass with me and sat out on the front porch, watching the snow gently fall. The cigar was a wonderful addition to the brisk, pleasant winter night.

PipeTobacco

Post Script: Yes, afterwords, I was also fortunate enough to be allowed to provide service as alluded to in the January 1st post.