Tuesday, April 19, 2011

All Things Glen

Yes, yes, the movie of a similar (or expanded) name was great... I know.  This glengarry hat of mine is worn with a kilt at weddings when kilts are stipulated for the groomsmen and guests, or to funerals where pipes may be played and the widow tells you in a letter:

"Marshall would have wanted his grand-nephews all in kilts, you boys meant so much to him.  The reception will be at the Caledonia Club, and [barman] will let you finish Marshall's remaining reserves.  Jerry told me that he still has three very good single malts back there from Marshall's account so I've told [club manager] that you can sign for it whenever you want."

Note: I was 13. 

I have also worn it spey-casting during salmon runs just to out-kooky the snobs.  Didn't work.

The stand-by Maxwell Kiltie and argyle socks.

THICK silk spotted tie was something like $7 new a few years ago.

Another Glen, is the Glen Plaid (technically Glen Urquhart Plaid).  A certain foppish Prince once nearly made it his, but it endures today as a great pattern.  In the northern, northern, northern New Hampshire town of Pittsburg, there are three Connecticut Lakes (the headwaters of the Connecticut River) which all begin as a six-inch trickling spring.  On the First Connecticut Lake, is The Glen, a fishing and hunting lodge where we've been going for several generations.  My Nanna handed my ass to me in a game of croquet, and Grandfather and I shared his final day of flyfishing before his health ruled out his beloved pursuit.  I later commissioned a custom spey-rod from JP Ross, and named it after Grandfather.  When I showed it to him last summer, he held it, slowly mock-casted for a minute, and very characteristically said a quiet "Thank you", this time in an unexpectedly sweet tone, followed by a nearly imperceptible sigh.  The sigh was maybe a bit for the gift, perhaps for memories of flyfishing friends now gone, but probably for the awful acknowledgment that with time, all things pass... even the once-immortal loves. 

Suit is not suitable for winter

If you have any relative older than you, write them a letter... with a pen, on actual paper, and mail it.  Articulate your thoughts or just pour it out... but send it.


  1. A most handsome hat and sentiment. My balmoral and I have become very good friends this year.

  2. I'll have to share this with my husband. His grandfather (our son's namesake)taught him how to fly fish, a pastime that my husband is most passionate about. He's now passing along the tradition to our son. And I totally agree with your thoughts on letter-writing. It's a dying art and we can't let it go.

  3. My grandfather was a big fly fisherman. I've never tried - I've never even been freshwater fishing. Perhaps we'll take a trip to The Glen.

    It's hard to watch our elders age. And scary, too.


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