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.
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| The stand-by Maxwell Kiltie and argyle socks. |
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| 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.
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| 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.
A most handsome hat and sentiment. My balmoral and I have become very good friends this year.
ReplyDeleteI'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.
ReplyDeleteMy 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.
ReplyDeleteIt's hard to watch our elders age. And scary, too.
Lovely post. Same page.
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