Field to Table: Single Pot Gumbo
Through these short days of a new year, we come in from the field. Our chapped hands wrap around whisky on the cold, darkest days of the year. The warmth of our hearth beckons us- as so does the comfort of winter food. Freezers are full of our quarry and the larder holds the last … Continue reading
Pride in My Pup
A hunting journal entry and reflection by my father, R. Wm. Kelly, Jr. Dog ownership never was much of a consideration through my professional adult life. Sure we had a few when I was a kid and so many of my weekends were spent on local farms hunting and hanging out along side my father. … Continue reading
Corona Pheasants: The Journal Entry
In the lines again with the cockeyed stares of those around. Gawking in pajamas as they ram into achilles and wondering how my eyes look so carefree. They push and the ticket clerks again clueless about how to check a firearm. Travelers shuffling baggage of selfish anticipation- and we all move through talking out over … Continue reading
Ode to the R Months
I was born in bottom half of September, just as the calendar claims Autumn. The trees are still full of green leaves- a cool harvest breeze passes through them- waiting to desiccate, rustle, and set adrift. Autumn is my terroir- copper freckles and auburn hair. Brown saddle leather and Irish Tweed. The R months beckon … Continue reading
Doves: A Story
* Doves is a chapter from Providence: The Story, a book I wrote for my family in 2013. Story XVIII Doves Gill Jr and Gill III – 2012 It had been a few years since Gill spent a fair deal of quality time at the place. Daily life was busy and he rarely made the … Continue reading
On Private Water
It was a golf cabin and he was a golfer. I’m not a golfer. He said bring, “bring your rod, there’s a little fishing on the golf course- maybe you can show me something- we have permits to fish it- it’s private.” This is when I termed the phrase, WHORE HOUSE FISHING. It was the same experience I had 15 years prior. Pellet feed, no one around, absolute monsters. Whore house fishing because your paid for it. Continue reading
A Lament for the Dove Shoot
Traditions and customs develop from the big parts that are deliberate and organized down to the little idiosyncrasies that become ritual. I’m blessed to have opportunities throughout the year to pursue the outdoors. Continue reading
Rum and Island Dreaming
Part I: The Longing There are so many things absent in our lives this year. A recurring treat that has sidelined this year are the impromptu pilgrimages to the Islands. For years, my wife Casey and I have slipped away for “long weekend” to dates together to the Caribbean. We usually travel on relatively short … Continue reading
Pairing: Music and Cocktails Part II
For those of you that follow my good friend, Mr. Red Clay Soul, you will know that I occasionally guest write for the RCS blog. Perhaps that is where many of you got to know me and have found your way to this little personal blog, Big Haint Blue. Today, we have “co-posted” companion pieces … Continue reading
Before Clothes were Disposable
When I was sixteen years old it was expected that if I wanted gas in my car, that I get a summer job. My mom suggested that I call the local department store. A whole bunch of people there were like family- a good bit of them were her family. After a week of behind … Continue reading