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(G. L. Pease/Pipes Magazine) It’s happened to most of us at least once, and if it hasn’t, it will. We dive into our collection for some tobacco we’re looking forward to smoking, open the container, whether tin, jar or plastic pouch, and find that the contents have been entombed just long enough and at just the right conditions to have been rendered as dry as mummy dust, and just about as appealing. As we fight back our dismay, and attempt to delicately extract the contents, hoping to somehow rescue a decent smoke from the rubble of our disappointment, the desiccated stuff just crumbles between our careful fingers, and we’re left with powder where we wanted ribbons. Continued
Image: Library of Congress
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