Joined Sep 2003
9K Posts | 0+
Puerto Rico/NYC
with a Cuban cigar.
An explosion of heat and humidity hit this area, starting with an 89 last Sunday, running through four days of 90 or more, and a Friday that saw an unofficial high of 84 and some of the most intense humidity you'll find in a Northeastern location.
All day long, soft country rains falling, and around the lower locations in the nearby Hudson Valley area, fierce lightning and thunder. Interestingly enough, in this nice little neighborhood tucked away in a corner of Lower Dutchess County, the worst of the weather often escapes us.
Even the F0 tornado that hit a couple of years ago was down below, a couple miles from here maybe. The wind was swirling around my house that night, fearsome, and had me thinking tornado. I later found out one had indeed hit at about that time.
But I live on a blessed hill, on a back country road with a cute name that harks to the Bible. Today gave way to tonight, and tonight to this early Saturday morning. All around, the rumble of thunder in the valley.
At 0123 hours it was time for a cigar. I searched through Desk Top III and chose a scary cigar. That's because it was Cuban, a cigar I'd never had before, about 6x50, named Diplomaticos. I forget who sent it, but it's been around for a while. Waiting for this smoker of Girly Man Cigars to work up the courage, and waiting for some age to wipe out the Earnie Shavers punch that inhabits almost every Cuban cigar.
A soft, deerskin wrapper that marks so many Cubans. Where the heck do they get the deerskin to make the wrappers for these cigars? Dutchess County? We've got plenty of deer for export. :sm_angel: Deerskin leaf, maybe? So many of the real Cubans I've had through the years have this pleasant feeling wrapper, stealthily hiding the bold flavors and heady feeling, even punch of most Cubans. And like so many Cubans, red pepper, lilac powder and charred meat.
I spent part of this cigar hanging out of a window in an upstairs bedroom leaning on the windowsill above one of the window boxes, in a house perpetually under renovation. I saw my second green firefly of the season in my driveway while I was hanging out that window in the bare upstairs bedroom, one of three up there, and four in total.
Five and a half years since I took over, a little over that since I actually purchased it, and almost five since I "officially" moved in. Almost died here once of my worst ever asthma attack. Came with a girlfriend in tow. No more girlfriend.
It's been a blessed life here, fraught with huge financial difficulties, along with the deepening of a health "condition" that is now permanent, potentially life threatening, but well under control. A house in limbo and mostly bare. Beautiful grounds, raw, not much "landscaping", a work most definitely "in progress." :roll: :mrgreen:
The birds are beautiful, the animals are refreshing and the city where I was born, raised and became a reluctant "city slicker" is far, far away. The heart of a country boy still beats within and I'm many steps closer to that up here. And the country rains that roll through the hills give way to poetry, prose and soft thoughtfulness, contemplating the world today.
And it was time to tune everything out but some music. Not many CD's, no more "record player." The Music Choice Channel from Cablevision provides some surprisingly good stuff. I started with Classic R&B. Ghetto music. The stuff I grew up with. We called it soul. Fred Wesley and The JB's, a James Brown "sub-group," Ray, Goodman and Brown a/k/a The Moments, The Manhattans, heck, they even played Ain' Gon' Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman) by the late Joe Tex. "My music." :thumbsup: And then, as though prophetic, all over again, from exactly 30 years ago, Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes featuring Teddy (way before the accident) Pendergrass, doing Wake Up Everybody.
Well guys, just like the Temptations with Ball Of Confusion five years prior to Wake Up Everybody, the world's still the same 30 years later, the same one you sang about. But it's a great life in those enjoyable moments, in the quiet peace of my little retreat in the hills of the Hudson Valley, and . . .
those Dutchess Country rains.
The cigar went out around 0310 hours, but I wasn't about to let the last smokeable inch of this fine Cuban cigar go to waste. It's a tough burn when the humidity in your box is 65%, but the humidity in your den is way higher. :cryinlaugh: It ended at 0326 with heavy char, smooth, bold, and . . .
for the first time ever, my Burmese python shed in one piece around 0730 this evening, an indicator of extremely good skin health, a must for a snake. It's been a good life. It IS a good life. It is how you view it. I cannot complain about my "basic training" period, really. It's a good life, . . .
in the Dutchess country rains.
:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
An explosion of heat and humidity hit this area, starting with an 89 last Sunday, running through four days of 90 or more, and a Friday that saw an unofficial high of 84 and some of the most intense humidity you'll find in a Northeastern location.
All day long, soft country rains falling, and around the lower locations in the nearby Hudson Valley area, fierce lightning and thunder. Interestingly enough, in this nice little neighborhood tucked away in a corner of Lower Dutchess County, the worst of the weather often escapes us.
Even the F0 tornado that hit a couple of years ago was down below, a couple miles from here maybe. The wind was swirling around my house that night, fearsome, and had me thinking tornado. I later found out one had indeed hit at about that time.
But I live on a blessed hill, on a back country road with a cute name that harks to the Bible. Today gave way to tonight, and tonight to this early Saturday morning. All around, the rumble of thunder in the valley.
At 0123 hours it was time for a cigar. I searched through Desk Top III and chose a scary cigar. That's because it was Cuban, a cigar I'd never had before, about 6x50, named Diplomaticos. I forget who sent it, but it's been around for a while. Waiting for this smoker of Girly Man Cigars to work up the courage, and waiting for some age to wipe out the Earnie Shavers punch that inhabits almost every Cuban cigar.
A soft, deerskin wrapper that marks so many Cubans. Where the heck do they get the deerskin to make the wrappers for these cigars? Dutchess County? We've got plenty of deer for export. :sm_angel: Deerskin leaf, maybe? So many of the real Cubans I've had through the years have this pleasant feeling wrapper, stealthily hiding the bold flavors and heady feeling, even punch of most Cubans. And like so many Cubans, red pepper, lilac powder and charred meat.
I spent part of this cigar hanging out of a window in an upstairs bedroom leaning on the windowsill above one of the window boxes, in a house perpetually under renovation. I saw my second green firefly of the season in my driveway while I was hanging out that window in the bare upstairs bedroom, one of three up there, and four in total.
Five and a half years since I took over, a little over that since I actually purchased it, and almost five since I "officially" moved in. Almost died here once of my worst ever asthma attack. Came with a girlfriend in tow. No more girlfriend.
It's been a blessed life here, fraught with huge financial difficulties, along with the deepening of a health "condition" that is now permanent, potentially life threatening, but well under control. A house in limbo and mostly bare. Beautiful grounds, raw, not much "landscaping", a work most definitely "in progress." :roll: :mrgreen:
The birds are beautiful, the animals are refreshing and the city where I was born, raised and became a reluctant "city slicker" is far, far away. The heart of a country boy still beats within and I'm many steps closer to that up here. And the country rains that roll through the hills give way to poetry, prose and soft thoughtfulness, contemplating the world today.
And it was time to tune everything out but some music. Not many CD's, no more "record player." The Music Choice Channel from Cablevision provides some surprisingly good stuff. I started with Classic R&B. Ghetto music. The stuff I grew up with. We called it soul. Fred Wesley and The JB's, a James Brown "sub-group," Ray, Goodman and Brown a/k/a The Moments, The Manhattans, heck, they even played Ain' Gon' Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman) by the late Joe Tex. "My music." :thumbsup: And then, as though prophetic, all over again, from exactly 30 years ago, Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes featuring Teddy (way before the accident) Pendergrass, doing Wake Up Everybody.
Well guys, just like the Temptations with Ball Of Confusion five years prior to Wake Up Everybody, the world's still the same 30 years later, the same one you sang about. But it's a great life in those enjoyable moments, in the quiet peace of my little retreat in the hills of the Hudson Valley, and . . .
those Dutchess Country rains.
The cigar went out around 0310 hours, but I wasn't about to let the last smokeable inch of this fine Cuban cigar go to waste. It's a tough burn when the humidity in your box is 65%, but the humidity in your den is way higher. :cryinlaugh: It ended at 0326 with heavy char, smooth, bold, and . . .
for the first time ever, my Burmese python shed in one piece around 0730 this evening, an indicator of extremely good skin health, a must for a snake. It's been a good life. It IS a good life. It is how you view it. I cannot complain about my "basic training" period, really. It's a good life, . . .
in the Dutchess country rains.
:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: