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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

Tag Archives: woodberry forest school

Freshly Shod…

26 Saturday Jun 2021

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Family, Living, Passages, Relationships, Style, time

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Tags

boarding school, camp moccasins, children, clothing, college, contemplation, days, family, l. l. bean, life, lost youth, memory, parenting, scad, southern boys, time, woodberry forest school, years, youth

Recently, while sorting through the debris of my life, I came across this book, a reminder of my younger days.

So started a post never completed from July, 2014.  Lord, seven years ago, and I am trying desperately to remember who I was and why I was.

Seven years ago, my oldest had just finished his freshman year at college, living away from home, in a big house with a group of guys, enjoying the summer of knowing that he made it, at least through one year, and that he was on his own.

At the time, the house on Henry, though it never looked this good…

Seven years ago, my youngest was getting ready to ship off to his first year of boarding school.  He was getting an early start, in order to practice with the varsity soccer team.

At the time, gazing into his future…

Seven years ago, I think the chapter in question was this

If I took any of this seriously, forgive me…

Seven years ago, I think the Freshly Shod refers to these

Good ol’ LL…

Seven years ago, I found my inspiration to buy these from this

As I stated earlier, if I took any of this seriously, forgive me…

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Spring Done Sprung…

23 Monday Mar 2015

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

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

beach, boarding school, children, classes, college, empty nesters, life, savannah college of art and design, spring break, tides, woodberry forest school

last sunset...

that last sunset…

Perhaps, I should say, spring sprunged.  My youngest returns back to his boarding school later today, and in Savannah my oldest returns back to the college grind today, which all means that today at Totem Hall we return to life as empty nesters today, not a bad life mind you, but a life nevertheless…

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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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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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