35 degrees at dawn this morning. The winds are still around, but the downdrafts have yet to descend into the vale where I live. Time for a post-breakfast cigar, Oliva Free Spirit. The deciduous trees have lost enough leaves to see the steeple of the church nearby. No hawk, owl, or crow atop it this morning.
In the mid 19th century, men of means began to favor smoking jackets to protect their clothes from the smell of tobacco smoke. The first of these were robes of silk or satin. Later, they evolved into “dinner jackets.” I do not own one and do not wish to stink up one of my coats, so, this morning, I’m wearing four shirts - a t-shirt, a thick turtleneck long sleeve cotton shirt, and two denim shirts, all of which I will launder much more easily than our Victorian counterparts. My wife was amused when she set off for work.