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The Gentleman Farmer

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The Gentleman Farmer

Category Archives: Passages

Moving On…

12 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Family, Living, Passages, Relationships, time, Totem Hall

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

dodge, lexus, memory, moms, moves, moving, nissan, packing, pathfinder, poodles, ram 2500, roommates, rx400h, scad, sons, u-haul

Our oldest made his return to college Saturday. This was not our first fond farewell, having over the years sent him off to summer camps, boarding school, and the first year of college, but somehow yesterday was different, he was moving into his own home, well, own home with four other roommates.

folding sheets for the first and last time...

folding sheets for the first and last time…

boxed up and ready to go...

boxed up and ready to go…

The whole process was most entertaining and it brought back a flood of memories.

i'll just stuff this...

i’ll just stuff this in…

it doesn't take me long to pack...

it doesn’t take me long to pack…

To begin with, all our carefully thought out plans fell by the wayside. The big Dodge 2500 is still in the shop. She was going to be the workhorse of the move. So, you say, no problem, I am sure you have a Plan B. Well good old Plan B did not work out either. Since my son’s Pathfinder did not have wiring for the trailer lights, there was no U-Haul for us, not rentable. Surely, we can use one of the open-air trailers here at Totem Hall, right? Ooh, too bad, the Lexus, choice three, with tow package and harness, is no good, faulty wiring.

The end result: ah, stuff it in the back of the Nissan.

packed in the back...

packed in the back…

packed on the side...

packed on the side…

packed on the other side...

packed on the other side…

and packed in the front...

and packed in the front…

He is definitely my son.

How crazy time is, really. We move through it, try our best to hold on to it, swimming upstream, you know.

bye moms, bye poodle...

bye moms, bye poodle…

Was it just the other day that I was making my own moves, possessions stuffed into a trash bag, or two? Or how about renting the first moving truck, enlisting a couple of friends with offers of beer and lunch, forgetting to tie down everything in back.

bye totem hall...

bye totem hall…

Then came children, just the births alone seem long ago, though, in the grandness of time, not too far away, remembered, just not able to be captured again, the first words, the first walk, off to school, off to university.

bye son, fare thee well...

bye son, fare thee well…

Life is such a funny game…

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Stuff of Dreams, Stuff of Boys…

06 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Family, Living, Passages, Relationships, Sporting Life, time

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

archery, avon old farms school, bait fish, boarding school, fishing, golf, hiking, hunting, lacrosse, landlord, quail, roommates, savannah college of art and design, tadpoles, woodberry forest school

Do you ever think that life shows you, gives you, just what need, when you need it, as you need it?

stuff of boys, stuff of dreams...

stuff of boys, stuff of dreams…

Case in point, entering every day into the world of gentleman farming at Totem Hall, I pass a little corner in my home.  Until yesterday, I never paid it any mind.  It was just stuff.  But for some reason, for some reason, yesterday was different; I sat down and, as if for the first time, I saw the stuff of dreams, stuff of boys…

gotcha...

gotcha…

Blessed, our family has always lived surrounded by nature.  Nature has all sorts of bugs, butterflies, tadpoles, and baitfish that need catching by young boys.

boys and bows and arrows...

boys and bows and arrows…

My two sons and I like to hunt and fish.  After summer camp one year, one of the little rascals, maybe both got the idea of bow hunting and fishing.  So we bought an archery set.  Now the only thing left is the bow, the arrows are long gone.

walking and talking...

walking and talking…

I take long walks on our land.  Because of the possibility of running across a rattlesnake or water moccasin, just about all the time I’ll carry a stick with me.  For me, it’s better than a machete, which is too close quarter.

get up and fly, dagnabbit...

get up and fly, dagnabbit…

My part of the world has quail.  Sometimes even if your dog sets and holds, the bird might be a bit reluctant to get up and fly.  The boys use this strap to beat the bushes in hopes of getting the bird to move along.

full count...

spring sports…

Both the lacrosse stick and baseball bat are relics of the past.  My oldest son earned a varsity letter playing lacrosse at Avon Old Farms School.  My youngest tried baseball when he was much younger, maybe not even ten, in the end deciding the sport was too slow for him.

I did not even talk about golf, or tennis, or squash, whose tools of the trade you can see in several of the pictures.  And there is no way I can possibly describe how much fun I had teaching and then getting bested by my two, just a great way for me to grow up and stay young at the same time.

all gone now...

all gone now…

Okay, I staged this scene, but still, why not a bit of poetical license, after all we are all adults here.  The oldest is off to college in Savannah by the end of the weekend, moving into a home with four other roommates.  God help the poor landlord.  Then our youngest son leaves for Virginia and the start of his boarding school career next week.

Time moves along downstream like a river, always present, always changing, always there, never there…

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Time Passages

22 Tuesday Jul 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Music, Passages, time

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

169 barber street, 40 watt club, athens georgia, blitzkrieg bop, catapult, death, fables of the reconstruction, lost youth, m1 abrams tank, memory, misspent youth, ramones, rem, sex drugs rock & roll, tommy ramone, university of georgia, well spent youth

rip, tommy…

Has it really been close to two weeks?  My, oh my, time really does slip away.  The recent death of the last Ramone, Tommy, set me to thinking, well, contemplating sort of, the completely existential existence thing we call life.

we were all younger then…

Youth, what a strange, fickle, ephemeral state, it is and though it doesn’t work as well as it once did, together we can take a trip down my memory lane.

which to choose…

During the Ramones heyday of the early eighties, I think I was spending a lot of time around M1 Abrams tank sights, living the dream of firepower, little money, and lots of partying.

m1…

After my stint with tank sights, I found my way back to Athens, Georgia, and University.  An earlier attempt having resulted in a glorious flameout, my second effort would only be marginally better.

through this arch all dreams come true…

At the time a very popular local band, REM, was making good, and to my mind captured the moment best, “Ooh, we were little boys, Ooh, we were little girls”.  HaHa, what a wonderful line!  There was so much music, so much art, so many young, pretty people.  The rent was cheap.

169 barber street home…

The food, and alcohol, and drugs, were even cheaper.  I embraced everything, soaked it up, believed in it, cared not for the future, understood not the future.  Went to class; didn’t go to class, fell in love; fell out of love; had lots of sex, had no sex; cared, didn’t care.

made famous…

And, true story, became a character in a song, from an album, by a band.

in here somewhere…

Now, of course, it is a hazy, distant memory, though I do wonder if I’ll be like those elderly ones who remember way back when so clearly, as if it were yesterday.

hazy memory me...

hazy memory me…

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School’s Out…

10 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Family, Living, Music, Passages, Relationships, Vacation

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

ella fitzgerald, heir, kingdom, louis armstrong, parenting, primogeniture, spare, summer break, teenagers, the tams

Gosh, can you even remember no school, no worries, no problem?

Or, as the fabulous Miss Ella and Mister Louis would put it, “summertime, and the livin’ is easy”.

the heir to the throne...

the heir to the throne…

the spare to the throne...

the spare to the throne…

the heir and the spare...

the heir and the spare…

The good news is I know where they are.
The bad news is I have no idea what they did.

How does that song go?  Oh yes, “be young, be foolish, be happy”.

 

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Magic Carpet Ride (Part 1)

17 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Interiors, Passages, Totem Hall

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

8-track cassette, area rugs, bongs, floors, heart pine, master bedroom, pong, shag carpet, the 70's, wall-to-wall carpet, wings haircut

childhood living…

Growing up as I did a child of the 70’s, shag carpet stretching from corner to corner in colors not found nature were as much a core tenant to my existence as the 8-track cassette, Pong, and for that matter, bongs.

As I gained awareness and said goodbye to my platform shoes and wings haircut, I swore that never again would I live with wall-to-wall carpet, shag or not, and for the most part, I haven’t. Here at Totem Hall, our floors are overwhelmingly heart pine. To protect the floors, to provide comfort, and, of course, show off interesting visual patterns and textures, we use area rugs, mostly old, mostly well loved.

First of a series, I’ll start today with pattern snippets from the rugs of the master bedroom.  Please excuse any obvious need for cleaning or vacuuming.

my bedside, one of a matching pair...

my bedside, one of a matching pair…

foot of the bed...

foot of the bed…

my dressing area...

my dressing area…

not my dressing area...

not my dressing area…

 

 

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Spring Sprung

15 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gentleman Farming, Passages, Relationships

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

adjustment bar, alternator, broken heart, farm chores, field mow, john deere, kubota, repair work, stump jumper, warranty, woods mow, zero-turn mower

Well, there is an explanation, broken heart, and broken tractor, and, so, I have been running late, and running behind.

not good...

not good…

The broken tractor is easier to explain than the broken heart. Underneath my rotary mower, manufactured by Taylor Pittsburgh, in the center part, is a contraption known as a stump jumper. The stump jumper is dish shaped so the mower will slide up and over large stumps and rocks. Bisecting the stump jumper is a brace, bolted to which are two blades that do the cutting. It is that brace which failed and put a damper on my spring fieldwork.

really not good...

really not good…

Of course, that is not the only equipment failure. There is an adjustment bar for the mower wheel simply vanished somewhere in my back forty, a victim of my negligence in checking for fastness. At least that job did not require a trip to the welder, just a wait on the UPS man.

under warranty...

under warranty…

Both zero-turn finish mowers, a Kubota, and a John Deere, required more than one trip to the shop. The John Deere had an alternator issue, thankfully covered by warranty. The Kubota suffers from a faulty starter, unfortunately not under warranty.

woods and water await...

woods and water await…

right, off we go then...

right, off we go then…

Tomorrow I make a run to pick up the now repaired Kubota. The John Deere I used today around the barn and pool area. The tractor went into the woods for a hard mow to maintain our hiking and horse trails. The new adjustment bar will need some adjusting; the back part of the deck keeps dragging, cutting down on my efficiency, and not helping the aesthetics of my mow.

 

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No More Bourbon & Pearls?

22 Thursday May 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Blogs, Passages

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Bourbon, excellence, goodness, light, Pearls, Tabitha

closed...

closed…

Whaddya mean I can’t have another?

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Farm Fashionable

17 Thursday Apr 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gentleman Farming, Passages, Style, Totem Hall

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

arrow, brooks brothers, business chores, clothing, cov-ver, farm chores, filson, fishing, hay, hens, home chores, hunting, jc penny, koi fish, long leaf pine, polo ralph lauren, quarter horses, russell moccasin, sears, st. john's bay, wigwam

clothes of the trade...

clothes of the trade…

Back in the day, before the deluge of the modern mail order catalog, I eagerly used to await the latest Sears or JC Penny wish book. Once I had the catalog in my hands, I would carefully go through the pages, picking this and that for some vaguely defined executive future. Happily ensconced in the world of Sears and JC Penny, I put together many an outfit to wear to the office, on the golf course, at supper, in the garden.

Here we are now; flashed forward forty plus years, and those early dreams of an outfit here and an outfit there did not quite turn out as planned. Dress at Totem Hall is nothing but practical. Horses, chickens, pine trees, hay fields, vegetable crops, fruit trees, and koi fish demand nothing less, and those are just the living entities that want attention. I have not mentioned the pool, barn, home, fencing, drive, studio, well house, all of which have their particular care and needs.

Above, spread out over the bed, is my day. Below is my day, in detail.

the basics...

the basics…

• Underwear
Brooks Brothers and Polo Ralph Lauren
(age and, well, age means boxers instead of briefs)
(southern boys always wear crew neck tee shirts, always)

the arrow collar man...

the arrow collar man…

• Shirt
Brooks Brothers
(the ubiquitous button down, worn out, frayed, usually Brooks Brothers)

might as well have the best...

might as well have the best…

• Pants
Filson
(if there is a better pair to hunt, fish, farm, garden, chore, or spreadsheet in, show me)

these boots are made for...

these boots are made for…

• Socks & Boots
Wigwam and Russell Moccasin
(heavy-duty, warm, need to fill the boots)
(ma’am, just bury me in my boots, please)

warmth...

warmth…

• Jacket
St. John’s Bay
(goodwill find, wish it had pockets, absolutely love it and I like browns)

the finishing touch...

the finishing touch…

• Hat
Cov-Ver
(my best buddy, very floppy, much worn in, much loved)

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Early Morning Early Morning

14 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Family, Passages, time, Totem Hall

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

boarding school, boon companion, children, chores, living room

My buddy...

My buddy…

I am an early riser, and that is a good thing given all the little chores that define my day, family, farm, home, business. One of my all time, absolute, favorite duties is waking my youngest up so he and I together can pull our collective selves together and make our way to his day school. This morning, like so many more before it, started with me quietly going up the stairs, turning on lights, gently shaking my son awake. He never pops right up, takes after his mother on that account. Back downstairs in the living room, making my way to the kitchen, and my misplaced cup of coffee, I suddenly realized that all this is no more this time next year. You see my youngest, like his older brother before him, is off to boarding school. In a bit of a panic, I looked around, taking in the sights, and the silence, particularly the silence, for, as I said, the boy takes a bit a time get up and running. Anyway, as I stood contemplating the silence, and the passage of time, I took several pictures with my trusty iPhone, which I now share with you, my dear reader.

Not that tall...

Not that tall…

What was her life...

What was her life…

Old and broken...

Old and broken…

Throw...

Throw…

Loose art...

Loose art…

More curios...

More curios…

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Curioser & Curioser

08 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Passages, Totem Hall, Totems

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Buddhas, cabinets, curios, Julian Barnes, Lewis Carroll, memory

Underneath the watchful eye...

Underneath the watchful eye…

And behind the "looking" glass...

And behind the “looking” glass…

Oh, well, yes, I really do owe Lewis Carroll an apology. Curious curios collected over the years, each one with a story, a memory, even though some of those stories and memories are lost to time, or distorted by time, kind of like a Julian Barnes story.

Campari...

Campari…

Rocking horse...

Rocking horse…

Magic bus...

Magic bus…

Eskimo...

Eskimo…

What we collect, what does that say about us, right? And further, where we place, how we place our little objects, what too does that say about us? It caught my eye; it means something. I must have it, cherish it, forever. It will look just right, right here…

Friends...

Friends…

Henny penny...

Henny penny…

Our little world...

Our little world…

The moon belongs to everyone...

The moon belongs to everyone…

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Recent Background Noise

Perhaps my ennui stems from David Bowie's death. I read somewhere that we should consider ourselves lucky to have lived at the same time he did. I do. Many years ago, there was a girl in my secondary school, Debbie P., who was very hip, very groovy, and very pretty. Now I attended Catholic schools and so, as you might imagine, we had to wear uniforms, except, of course, for after-school activity, and that's where I get to the point of the story. Our school was putting on its big play of the year, I had a small part, Debbie was working backstage. One evening during rehearsal she showed up wearing a Ziggy Stardust tee-shirt. I was young, naive, not hip, not groovy, and not knowing who the ambiguous Ziggy might be. During the weekend that followed that rehearsal, I went to a record store and discovered just what David Bowie was all about. It was a transforming experience. Now some forty years later, I farm, David is dead, and Debbie is into Christian rock bands. Did I say ennui...

Recent Bedside Read

Granny's Wonderful Chair is still my bedside read for reasons discussed nearby...

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