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The Gentleman Farmer

~ Found somewhere in a part of the country known as north Florida and south Georgia…

The Gentleman Farmer

Category Archives: time

It’s A Sporting Life (1st of a Series)

08 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Living, Sporting Life, time

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

120 years, calisthenics, continence, daily routine, exercise, living long, living well, moses, numbers, old age, pushups, rock stars, situps

Have I ever mentioned that my plan is to live 120 years, just like Moses and twice as corny?

coming after you, big guy...

coming after you, big guy…

Well, in my mind, to do that I got to keep in shape.  No, really, I do.  Heck, for that matter, you do too.  I mean, wouldn’t it be fun if we all lived to be 120, together, rocking through the ages, still with our teeth, our senses, and, of course, our continence?

just like these guys, only different...

just like these beloveds, only different…

Okay, so, this is my plan.  Each day, in fact each and every day, at the least, I do a set of calisthenics.  This year, to date, I have done 30,590 pushups and 30,590 sit-ups.

bracing for the pushup...

bracing for the pushup…

bracing for the situp...

bracing for the situp…

How did I get there you ask.  Well, I started out on January 1, by doing 10 of each.  Over the next two days following, I did 20 apiece.  From January 4 through January 6, I completed sets of 30, and, well, I’m guessing you can see the pattern.

view from a pushup...

view from a pushup…

view from a situp...

view from a situp…

Of course, the deeper question is why.  For that I have no answer, other than there is great joy to be found in rhythm, routine, number counting, and living to be 120.

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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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Three Weeks Is Enough!

04 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Living, Style, time

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

beards, braun cruzer, everyman jack, gillette atra, hair, merkur, old school, safety razor, shaving, shaving brush, soufflé dish

Time to shave.

enough...

touch of grey…

I don’t care whether you’re a boy or a girl, whether it’s a face or a pair of legs, shaving is a chore.

Of course, there are the tools of the trade.

I only break out the Braun when the beard gets thick.

charged and waiting...

charged and waiting…

I have no idea who gave me the brush and no one at Totem Hall is complaining about a missing soufflé dish.

just add soap...

just add soap…

We shop at a local organic co-op and though this stuff by Everyman Jack isn’t organic, it’s sold there, which should count for something.  Right?

politically correct...

politically correct…

I found this vintage Merkur safety razor with its handy dandy vintage case and just had to have it.  I use this bad boy first; you got to love and respect the old school.

men only...

men only…

The first razor I ever bought with my own money from my own job, the Gillette Atra; it is the finisher.  Enough said!

my first...

my first…

Now, beard done, and it’s time to move on to eyebrow, ear, nose, and back hair, no pictures, oh, the joy of aging…

 

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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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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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Fare Thee Well

20 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gentleman Farming, Passages, time

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

animals, boon companion, hens, nature

A young Goldie faces the future...

a young goldie faces the future…

Goldie Hen died just the other day.  She was somewhere in the seven plus range, a good age for a hen.  Goldie represented our next to last link with our old home, 4601.  Now, all we have left representing the old guard is Clarabelle Poodle.  Oh well, it reminds of that last soldier standing bit.  You know the fellow who gets the bottle of whiskey when the last of his comrades receive his final marching orders.

Goldie probably died of a crop infection, which adversely affected her gizzard, which caused her to go septic.  If I was any better of a gentleman farmer, I could have figured such a thing out before her systems went all haywire.

Her passing makes me think of course of my own.  Such a short time we have, who knew?  Enjoy the moment and keep looking for the unusual, I guess.

Finally, my wife is an insanely avid photographer, 20,000 or so, and counting.  All those photos and I could just find a couple of our little hen.  She was a great friend and a boon companion.  She leaves behind some mates, of course.  Gallus will have to take the reins of lead hen.  I am sure she is up to the job.

Exit Goldie Hen...

exit goldie hen…

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Sunday Morning Ramble

16 Sunday Dec 2012

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Religion, time

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

catholic, farm chores, new york times, poodles, sunday, sunrise

Here comes the sun...

here comes the sun…

Raised Catholic, my parents made me go to Mass until the age of thirteen, which I think was about when I had Confirmation.  A dear friend of mine raised Catholic as well, always talks about the “ethnicity” of our faith.  “Being Catholic,” she says”, is in your blood, inescapable, and unalterable.”

Nevertheless, this Sunday, like most, finds me out conducting my chores, freeing chickens, looking in on horses, and strolling toward that wonderful reward, the Sunday paper.

Off we go then...

off we go then…

Now, where I live, the Sunday paper is a mere trifle, inconsequential fluff.  Since it is no New York Times, I can be done with it in five minutes or so, leaving me plenty of time to contemplate further chores…

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Return of sorts…

07 Friday Dec 2012

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in time, Totem Hall, Totems

≈ Leave a comment

Really, has it been 4 years?  My how time does slip by, especially when you are not paying attention.  There is a new look to the rather old, but underutilized, site.  We call our place, Totem Hall and I am enclosing a couple of, well, a couple of totems, spiritual guardians, and protectors, of our little domain.

Our friend, wise old owl...

our friend, wise old owl…

Our friend, good old fox...

our friend, good old fox…

Really, 4 years, who knew?

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Newer posts →

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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