my dad's pipe smoking year

today i learned that my dad smoked a pipe for a year back before he met my mother.

this was just one of those things that came up while we were sitting around after eating a ridiculously yummy dinner provided by my momma for my birthday. as my dad and hubs smoked cigars, my mom and i reminisced on how the scent wafting gently towards us on the evening spring breeze reminded us of the pipe tobacco our respective grandfathers smoked when we were little. my mom said, more for conversation's sake than anything, that my dad should smoke a pipe.

which was when he told us that he had, once, and he just didn't like it.

to which my mom responded "WHEN WAS THIS?"

and he told her how it was before he met her, and only for a year or so, and that he just couldn't find the appeal in it.

i found this so interesting, i told him i would blog about it tonight.

so here it is daddy. the blog about your pipe smoking year. i'm glad it didn't stick. i think nowadays it would look a little snobby and affected. but the image of it will always fit my grandfather, who was dignified and refined with his pipe. you, as my daddy, just make much more sense with a cigar than a pipe.

and i will always inhale deeply when walking past tobacco stores.

:-)