Digging in a ditch with a shovel and a pick

15 May

Well, would you look at this, Id forgotten I had a blog. I suppose I’ve been occupied by my newly forged and horrendously stressful career path.

Turns out, one can release a lot of pent up anger and repressed murderous intentions with a large garden and a new pick axe. Now that the winter in Vermont has (mostly) crept away, I’m left with what is quickly becoming an overgrown compilation of previous gardeners failed attempts at horticulture. Also, and I had no idea whatsoever about this, burrowing mammals are fond of moving flower bulbs to new, and unexpected subterranean locations.

The thing about gardening in the state of Vermont, it effectively translates to “digging down a foot, and finding a 200 lb rock”. This inevitably leads to a pile of large rocks, which then becomes the material for a wall.  It seems there is nothing New Englanders like more than large, imposing barriers around personal property, though now that I think about it, they may like crab meat more than large imposing barriers (Seriously, these people are part seagull). So, as I am a naturalized Vemonster, I need to start walling off my sacred lands from the invading flatlanders.  Nothing too ambitious. I figure I’ll start small, a few little walls around vegetable beds, then move on to the more complex dry-stacked battlement topped towers in a day or two.

I fully recommend 2 books to those of you who are inclined to such pursuits-

For daunting inspiration.

For the hows and the whys.

And finally, I have proof that Vermont gardening pays off in the end: I found this 1920 silver dime in the same area as a rusted 12 inch iron spike and some broken ink bottles. Oh, the treasures.

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Hamilton, Revisited

28 Feb

The Hamilton’s have been making shirts since 1883, which is a considerable amount of time to perfect one kind of garment. Each is made in their Houston workshop where they oversee all aspects of design and construction. Every Hamilton shirt is hand cut according to a paper pattern using fine fabrics. Considering that length of commitment one specific blood line has given to one occupation, chances are they’ve already started genetically adapting to shirt making. How would that manifest in a few hundred thousand years, I wonder? A bony, thimble like process at the end of every other finger tip? But I digress.

Hamilton produces shirts in two ways, on one side they make made to measure luxury shirts, and on the other, they make ready to wear shirts, made to the same standards, but geared to the especially impatient . This ready to wear collection is referred to as the Hamilton 1883 label, and wouldn’t you know it, there is a new collection out in time for the inevitable thaw coming our way.

Now, the thing about Hamilton shirts- they are undeniably expensive; roughly $200-250 a shirt. But before you allow that fact to flip the switch in your brain, making you ignore the desire to obtain one, consider this: I have more than a few shirts of quality in my closet, and I can safely speak to the fact that the brands known for quality last considerably longer than the ones known to fit into a broader range of budgets. You could consider your Hamilton shirt the equivalent of 3 lesser shirts, insofar as longevity. So, would you rather have 3 shirts from J. Crew that will collectively last you 3 -5 years of consistent-rotation wear, or 1 shirt, made with care and fine materials, that could last you 10+? I would go for the latter, personally. Or, at least I might have, had the Hamilton folks not offered to send me one for free. Looks as if all that voodoo is finally paying off.

So here’s the truth, uncomprimised by unforseen fortune and largesse.

This shirt is extremely well made.

Note the mother of pearl buttons. NOTE THEM.

Stitching all consistent and locked down nicely (fairly sure I just made that phrase up).

High-quality fabric, making all of your other shirts self concious.

The rest of the collection, you ask?

Take a look. 

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Snow swimming

22 Jan

Addendum, re: staying warm without looking like a North Face ad. I purposely ignored the subject of winter and shoes. I did so because I’m still on the fence about it; I have been going the time tested route, natural leather boot, treated for inclimate weather. The issue, however, is not staying stylish so much as staying safe – my two main winter walking concerns are walking stability (personal safety), and salt (shoe safety). This is a new experience for me; salted surfaces, and while salt will take care of the stability issue, it will completely screw up natural materials (ie. leather).

So I’ve been kicking around in a pair of these with moderate success. I treat them every month with obenaufs, after sufficient desalinization with a wet rag and liberal drying. The issue is this- I don’t want to wear these shoes every day for the next 3 months. I bought them because they were on the cheaper side of well made, and because I wouldn’t regret damaging them with winter wearing as much as, say, my other and more beloved boots.

I’ve come up with what I think will be the key to the problem,  take a look at these-

Swims, and rather sharp looking in the “Mobster” style- Especially in the black / khaki combo that looks exactly like spats.

So, you’ve got waterproofing, and warmth, and resistance to salt, all in a layer that can zip on top of a boot or shoe. This quote from their COO, Hanne Bismo Steen,  seems to sum it up- ”The SWIMS Mobster is built on the same rubber foundation as the SWIMS Classic (our first product) but has a warm neoprene water resistant high top. It protects more of the shoe and is good for days with lots of snow!”

But, there is still the problem of traction on icy sidewalks. Maybe the addition of a cleat of some kind?
I fear further testing is in order.

 

 

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Warm, but not preposterous

17 Jan

It has been a struggle, as of late, to avoid the siren song of synthetic fabrics. Its cold here in the maple state, damn cold. Thing is, I have this odd requirement from warm clothing; I prefer not to be made to look like a trundling, plastic skinned puff monster. I know, silly of me, but I hate synthetic cloth. I pass people on snowy streets, and cant help but think that their shapeless neoprene coated acrylic fiber stuffed-ness makes them look like North Dakotan attack-dog training facility assistants (apologies if you are one, I’m sure you look great).

I am being told, nay, I am being informed, as one informs a person with a head injury that they should get out of the way of fast moving traffic, that I need to buy a “real coat”. Now, the coats I have been wearing are quite real; heavy weight thigh length tweeds and worsted wools, classic overcoat cut (not too classic), with high storm collars. But no, coworkers and family are convinced that I’ll drop dead at 30° because my coat can biodegrade.

The key is this- Layering. I’ve been comfortable at -6 with just a few basic layers that, once combined, keep me as warm as Shackleton on an expedition (pictured above, and please note the amazing sartorial hoo-doo- cummerbund of what I can only assume is seal fur on the little guy on the left. If you have to wear a girdle of  aquatic mammal skin, you might as well attach it proudly with an over large safety-pin).

Here we go – the basics of staying warm, while not giving in to the demons of poly-synthetics (not to mention the ultimate after-effects, like hermaphroditic polar bears)

The base layer-

Silk and Linen. Used in whatever ratios you prefer. Silk is a natural insulator, while linen does a good job of wicking away sweat. Cotton does a decent job, but if you’re sufficiently insulated to be comfortable in the cold, you’ll also retain all of your body heat as you move around, and cotton will absorb all of that perspiration and hold it against your skin. Nothing like frostbite and inappropriate odors in equal parts.

For linens, I tend towards shirts and undershirts. Not to be indelicate, but for some articles of clothing, its a tad too rough. Joes Jeans has a nice Henley style linen tee, and you can freely justify a variety of new linen shirt purchases in the name of staving off an icy death.

Silk, I find, is best in the form of leggings. While potentially emasculating , the wearing of silk leggings in cold climates is worth every word of internal self mockery (and it will be a lot of words).

The mid layer- A sweater, a pair of warmish pants, and a scarf, in other words.

Here are variety of pictorial-recommendations

 

The top layer-

I have one word for you, oh sufferer of the ice and snow, tweed. No, don’t turn away from the glory of the tweed. As an all purpose fabric in cold weather, you cant beat it. It sheds water, makes one brood more deeply while crossing the moors, and has been proven to sub harmonically swish at the same frequency as Ewan Mcgregor’s singing voice (“proven”).

With tweed, you can go light or heavy. I sometimes layer a nice 12 ounce tweed blazer under a black cashmere overcoat, thus simultaneously staying extremely warm, and reminding myself of Mr. Belvedere to an extent that I continually hum the theme song. On the heavy side, a nice 22 ounce (or “estate”) tweed overcoat will have you toasty in a variety of conditions. You can also go the lighter topcoat route (a 17-19 ounce fabric), and layer more underneath it.  As far as length goes, its as simple as defining activity. If you’re out walking in wind and snow, you’ll want a nice knee length overcoat, while a “car length” (aka Three-quarter) coat may be more appropriate on the days where the wind inst biting into your thighs like a rabid hyena with a grudge against you.

Here is a nice example of an appropriately tweed  constructed car length topcoat from Billy Reid (that I bizarrely do not own)

Oh, and gloves will be useful, especially on those occasions when removing your hands from the warm sanctity of a coat pocket is required. I picked these up recently and I’m pretty happy with them. Yes, they are lined with the skin of small, harmless rabbits. I feel like I’m slipping a lost chapter of Watership Down onto my hands every time I wear them. But hey, this is winter; a cold, hard, emotionless time of year. Come spring I’ll have a fit of sensitivity, and ceaselessly rock back and forth crying, and mumbling the word “bunny” under my breath.

I hope this has been of some assistance. I can retrospectively say, that until I went out into the cruel, pre-work Monday morning air, at 14 below, I didn’t know what “cold” was. Now that I know, I think I’m going to need more sweaters.

 

 

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Random Snap

9 Jan

Perhaps “the” Lew Ayres, taken at Jones Beach, NY some time in the 30s by Grandmother-in-law.

This guy had the right idea; relaxing with a good book at the beach, and looking good while doing it.

Sign me up.

 

 

 

 

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Hexmas luck

3 Jan

My dream of warmth and reading happened, I think. Its all rather vague, now that the crush of workaday life is back in all it’s progressive, hateful glory.

Plenty of good things came to pass- for instance, a spalted maple dining table just sort of appeared at one point, as if by magic (or brother-in-law), and it has yet to un-transubstantiate.

Luckiest of all for tweeded transplants such as myself- some benevolent woman I happened to marry about a year ago left these boots under a tree for me. Upon further reflection, she may be an elf (the shoe kind).

 

Now I just have wait for the brine slurry of winter sidewalks to go away, and I can find a nice clean spring-time bog to traipse around in with these beauties.

 

 

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Old and Smelly

23 Dec

For my 29th year wandering the planet, my wife, who for reasons unknown to me is happy I’ve made it this far, has made me a gift of this;

 

Monocle Hinoki

“Hinoki takes its name from the hinoki cypress, a tree that only grows in Japan and is the preferred wood for building palaces, temples, shrines and the finest wooden soaking baths. It was inspired by a visit to Tawaraya, a famous three-centuries-old traditional Japanese inn located in Kyoto. Soaking in the legendary open-air hinoki ofuro (wooden bath) filled with warm spring water on a chilly morning, the idea for the perfume was born and the result is breathtaking. The ofuro is captured perfectly: the full, rich scent of the wood, the smells of the surrounding greenery, the soft touch of meditative incense, the memories of native moss.”

If I have to be older, I may as well progressively smell better.

It really is an amazing smell, the kind you cant stop huffing.

She picked it up on her recent trip to New York at Odin. I had not previously known about the store, but after seeing their site, I hope I never go (and if I do go, I hope someone else holds my wallet for the duration of the visit).

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Poleaxed, and in a frozen ditch

10 Dec

Where has the time gone? And for that matter, where has the majority of worldly ambient heat gone? I feel as if I’ve been beaten senseless with the maple flavored sledgehammer of work, life, and change.

Regardless, I’ve produced a polyvore proof of life. I suppose this indicates that at my core, I consider consumerism a basic sign of life. No real surprise.

I also noticed that all of these items involve warm, indoor lifestyles. The next set I make will just feature various pictures of fire.

Survive a Vermont Hexmas

 

 
I suppose this is sort of a gift guide for North Easterners, or perhaps recently transplanted Westerners who fear the viscous bite of temperatures below 50 degrees fahrenheit.

Some additional (yet prohibitively expensive) items to consider for your frozen loved one on Krampusmas.

 

The Linen Pub Jacket

 

The Linen Pub Jacket made by the fine people at Inis Meain
 
Dalwhinnie 15 Year Old Whisky - Master of Malt

Dalwhinnie 15 Year Old Whisky  This is an amazing scotch that will immediately make you feel better about things including, but not limited to: snowy days, cold fingers, being a red-head, and English oppression.

Now that I have established my plan to get sloshed, be wrapped in sweaters, and read about trees this holiday season, I think I’ll take a nap.

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Squirrel Time

30 Oct

Vermont thus far has been rather warm. I am told, with great peals of laughter punctuating, that it will not stay so. My indefatigable father in law refers to this time of year as the squirrel times. This is because this time of year is for preparation- ”you run around the place, getting everything ready and stored away, and sometimes, if you don’t watch yourself, BLAMO, under a car wheel”. So, if I am to understand this correctly,  the world as I know it will come to an end soon, replaced by rolling hills of ice-sheeted inhospitality, roving packs of dire wolves, possibly some mammoths.  I wouldn’t say I’m afraid, exactly, of this coming seasonal Ragnarok, but I will admit that I’ve acquired more tweed jackets in the last month than I have in the last two years.

In the spirit of staying calm about the impending tundrascape, I’ve started my own preparations; I’ve purchased a little black laboratory-style glass case to house my collection of tropical orchids. The case needs a little work, but it should serve well to keep them alive through the coming winter.

I’ve also been on the hunt for some decent winter boots that will see me through slushing about in the ice and snow and rabid ermines. I turned to a few mostly reliable sources for advice, and was recommended a series of more and more plasticized storm trooper style boots. While trying to maintain my sense of style, haphazard and nonsensical tho it may be, I split the difference to these. Under non-frozen/salted /windigo chased conditions, I’d go for a slightly more expensive (read well made) country boot , I figured the smooth surface will allow them to shed salt and water more easily, and stay conditioned with no trouble. Once I start wearing them out and about, I’ll do an update after a month or so.

I’m sincerely hoping that my dormant Viking genes kick in at the right moment and allow me to acclimate to all of this climactic extremity; otherwise I recon I’ll be waddling down the street wearing 4 tweed jackets at once, peering through a balaclava and two layers of scarves. Yes, I fear that the majority of my winter preparedness comes from inaccurate portrayals of extreme conditions from 70s pop-culture.

So far I’ve been making do with Spiewak and Pendleton, but we’ll see how far that gets me in a week, when the snow starts falling.

 

 

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In the sticks

7 Sep

Ok, I’m officially a Vermonter. No, seriously, I am…why are you laughing?

Some east coast impressions-

Everyone smokes; while jogging, walking their dogs, driving, pumping gas, nursing infants. You name it, and these people seem to smoke during it.

People in small towns will stare at a person they don’t know, point them out to other denizens, and they pretend they weren’t looking when you walk by.

Vermonters don’t do well with sarcasm. I’ve made some statements that were at once taken seriously, and as serious statements, made me come across as an absolute lunatic.

So far so good! With this increased amount of small town scrutiny, I find myself really drawn to some mayhem. I think I’ll start staging some scenes in which it is strongly suggested that I’m a werewolf. Think about it: shirtlessly stumble out of a clearing in the early dawn, torn trousers, hair full of twigs, splattered with blood. “Howdy neighbor! Er… just out for a morning stroll… with this deer haunch… that I found. What? Oh this, I had a nose bleed. Ok, see you around! Beware the moon,  er… have a great day! “

From the trip-

Nebraska Sunrise (which, to me, sounds like something unpleasant that happens in a truck-stop washroom)

Nebraska Sunrise from Seán Lee on Vimeo.

 

Cat

 

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