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Nollaig Shona Duit! Merry Christmas! In October at the Texas Pipe Show, a vaguely familiar man came up to our table, beamed down at me and said, “I bet you don’t remember me!” But after a minute, I did.  I hadn’t seen Bob Tot since we graduated at the University of Tulsa together in 1980, but he and I smoked many a pipe in the parking lot behind the Religious Studies building.  He's retired, of course, but has been steadily puffing on Petes. It turned out he reads the blog, and even more suprising, had brought me a few things he's written. "I dunno if you'd be interested in sharing any of them with your readers, but if you are, you're welcome to them." The first thing I picked out of his manuscripts was this charming story, which seems like the perfect gift to my fellow Pete Geeks this Christmas morning, touching as it does on so many issues we've laughed and cried about together over the past 11 years. An Irish Christmas Card, 1910   Pollination and Other Pipe Smoking Phenomena by “Old Smoke” I had done nothing outrageous, unless you call smoking Ten Dead Russians in the house outrageous.  That’s why I wasn’t too surprised when Candice poked her head in and wrinkled up her nose. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Nothing,” I said, “just enjoying a quiet smoke before the kids get home from soccer practice. Why? “Because you haven’t been acting weird lately.  Every time you pretend your life’s not running off the rails, I know something’s up.” “Well, actually I was trying to figure out how to tell you I’ve been having an affair with that girl across the street.” My confession sparked a wildfire.  It was easy to see why Candy might be jealous. Dark, beautiful young women often find older, slightly balding pipe smokers irresistible. That’s why I find it incomprehensible when a wife vents her jealousy by bending over holding her sides with squeals of laughter. “No,” she said, “really, stop! You’re killing me. My sides ache. No more jokes.  Goodness. Now I’ve forgotten why I walked in here. Oh yes, I remember.  I think you’re up to something.  I think you’ve snuck another pipe into the house without telling me.” “Seriously? We’re going to talk about this? First, I find the use of the adjective ‘another’ really offensive.  Second, I do not sneak pipes into the house.” “That right?  Then explain why you have almost twice as many pipes this year as you did last year. And with Christmas coming, too.  Explain yourself buster, or you can sleep in here with the dog tonight.”  This is another classic example of a wife’s misunderstanding of pipe smoking phenomena far beyond her comprehension.  In my thirty years as a pipeman, I’ve discussed this at pipe shows with other married pipe smokers, and I can tell you it’s nearly universal.   What never crossed Candy’s mind is the well-known scientific fact that pipes…