HFG - Happy Flannel Group
What is HFG?
The simple "Business" Answer...
HFG is a business group, a collection of parent and subsidiary corporations that function as a single economic entity through a common source of control. HFG essentially incorporates multiple businesses such as Wicked Harvest Books, Last Leaf Publishing, Smelker's Craftsmith Co. among others all under the Jerrod S. Smelker, LLC umbrella.
More Complex "Embracing" Answer...
I decided to create a company which incorporates all my publishing companies to include future endeavors involving writing, books, stories and perhaps other aspects of media ventures to come, as well as my woodworking crafting business. Welcome to Happy Flannel Group.
What is Happy Flannel Group about?
Well, grab a drink, put on a nice flannel shirt and get comfortable…let me tell you a story…
Happy Flannel Group is a scene really, a feeling, or perhaps a few perfect moments in time. It's a simple, quiet, quaint, even nostalgic moment where time stands still, but all of the senses are aware, even heightened. I think everyone has a place…a happy place…if you will. Whether it’s a physical location or even if it’s all in your mind, it’s a place, scene, setting, emotion, outlook, or thought in which you feel happy, at peace, warm, thankful and an opportunity to shut out the rest of the world. It’s different for everyone, but it makes you content, fortunate and comforted.
It may sound strange to many people, but when I look at, or especially when I put on a flannel shirt, that moment becomes a happy place for me. Flannel shirts are not just a soft, warm, comfortable feeling, but it’s the mental state it puts me in. It’s the memories I had while wearing flannel, it’s what the shirts represents and, well, read on and I’ll explain more at the end.
Here is a nice story in which I feel embraces Happy Flannel Group…
The Den
There's an older gentleman wearing an aged olive drab green and black buffalo plaid flannel shirt sitting in his favorite deep brown leather chair. A timeless elegant chair with tufted back and seat and riveted details. It's almost as old as he is and even bears similar wrinkles and scars from years of experience and life. The chair, in a small den, is surrounded by waist high dark walnut stained wood panels and trim, solid original hard wood plank floors, a stone fireplace and floor to ceiling shelves bursting with books upon more books.
Though, some shelves have a few decades of Field and Stream magazines, L.L.Bean and Cabela catalogs, picture frames with family photos and a fine collection of pipes, jars and tins of pipe tobacco, a modest humidor filled to the brim with rewarding cigars all surrounded by their useful and needed accoutrements.
A soft hunter green rug keeps a matching leather footrest close making the old man's feet comfortable especially when he dons the warm red buffalo plaid slippers he received two birthdays ago from his loving wife. The walls, above the walnut panels, soak in the soft light displaying its rich dusky sage green paint and showcasing quaint paintings from Norman Rockwell, an old black and white photo of his parents on their wedding day and an antique double barrel shotgun which hasn’t been fired since the 1950s.
Across from the bookshelf is a large bay window overlooking a small well-manicured yard, a modest creek which comes through a corn field on one side of the property and disappears into a thick pine tree wood line on the other side. Not far from the window outside, above a handsome row of Ninebark bushes, hanging from a beautiful red maple tree, are three bird feeders. The old man always keeps the feeders full year-round to enjoy his feathered visitors. He loves watching the bluejays, cardinals, and chickadees, the woodpeckers and crows as well as the non-feathered frequent guests of deer and squirrels. There’s even been wild turkeys and a fox who wander the yard now and then.
It is the season of autumn. Crisp comfortable temperatures of 58 degrees has been the normal atmosphere the last few days. Just cool enough to know it’s the autumn season letting you utilize the fireplace and wear your favorite jeans and flannel shirts. The colors outside among the oaks, maples and birch trees have been nothing short of spectacular. Even though the green grass is now covered in decaying leaves, the old man spends as much time outside as he can, though raking and pruning, but enjoying the seasonal opportunities.
The aroma within the den is a fusion of applewood burning in the fireplace, a “Pumpkin Cider” candle flickers on a small table next to the chair and the desired wafting scent of aromatic pipe tobacco. The old man takes his time packing one of many coveted pipes relishing in the ritual and tradition. Today it’s a Savinelli Rustic Author pipe filled with “Autumn Evening”. Each flick of the lighter and puff makes the old man smile. The window is open a crack…to let the smoke drift out and to let the crisp autumn air sail in.
There’s an old Victrola radio in the corner of the room softly playing. It was handed down from his father just before he passed. His father loved the radio, listening to it nightly instead of watching the television. The Victrola is on an old FM station which plays the ageless songs of the 40’s and 50’s. It’s generally a mix of big band, jazz and swing.
On the small table next to the old man is a glass. He reaches for it and takes a sip. The large cube of ice clinks on the side. He closes his eyes, swallows and smiles. It’s an Old Fashioned, his favorite drink for the last 40 years. He’s always been a bourbon connoisseur having many bottles within the house. Today, it’s Woodford Reserve Double Oak. A masculine warm tasty bourbon perfect for a late autumn afternoon.
He takes another sip of bourbon and a few more puffs of his pipe. He watches as the bluejays and the crows jockey for positions where the old man left a pile of corn earlier in the day. He looks around the den…at the family photos, his pipe and cigar collection, his old worn cowboy hat hanging by his dirty and frayed farming hats and then looks at and feels his flannel shirt. He takes in a deep breath …and smiles.
This story is one of my ideas of a happy place. Happy moments. Perfect scenes in time. These are a few of my happy flannel moments.
The other aspect of the story…
I love flannel. There, I said it. Anyone who knows me knows it’s no secret that I love flannel. I currently own 26 flannel shirts…some are my everyday flannels (or as I lovingly refer to them as my “fancy flannels”), and the others are my working at home or relaxing at home flannels (these are shirts that used to be my good flannels, but over time they have wrinkled, worn or torn, but no way would I toss them!) I don’t remember when my true love of flannel started, certainly when I was young (and before the whole Grunge music scene came along). I can tell you that especially the last 20 years of my life has been enveloped in the love of flannel shirts and blankets. There’s just something about…donning a flannel shirt.
For me, it’s not just the look and feel of the flannel shirts, (which they are extremely comfortable and for the record my favorite design is the buffalo plaid), but I guess it’s also what they represent:
It’s the hard-working man or woman who embraces a life of working with their hands, creating, and doing what needs to be done. It’s maintaining a home, working on a vehicle, chopping firewood, camping in the wilderness, fishing, farming the fields, canoeing a calm river, hunting, hiking with a family dog, morning coffee on the front porch, picnics at the park, feeding livestock, and on and on.
And flannel, to me, has always represented the seasons of autumn and winter (Which in all honesty, I prefer autumn over winter, but I’m happy wearing flannel during the cold winter months). I do love and embrace the Spring and Summer months, however I do get a little depressed knowing I won’t be able to wear my beloved flannel. I did, however, discover cowboy shirts which look a lot like the flannel, only thinner and manageable in the warmer months.
What is HFG?
The simple "Business" Answer...
HFG is a business group, a collection of parent and subsidiary corporations that function as a single economic entity through a common source of control. HFG essentially incorporates multiple businesses such as Wicked Harvest Books, Last Leaf Publishing, Smelker's Craftsmith Co. among others all under the Jerrod S. Smelker, LLC umbrella.
More Complex "Embracing" Answer...
I decided to create a company which incorporates all my publishing companies to include future endeavors involving writing, books, stories and perhaps other aspects of media ventures to come, as well as my woodworking crafting business. Welcome to Happy Flannel Group.
What is Happy Flannel Group about?
Well, grab a drink, put on a nice flannel shirt and get comfortable…let me tell you a story…
Happy Flannel Group is a scene really, a feeling, or perhaps a few perfect moments in time. It's a simple, quiet, quaint, even nostalgic moment where time stands still, but all of the senses are aware, even heightened. I think everyone has a place…a happy place…if you will. Whether it’s a physical location or even if it’s all in your mind, it’s a place, scene, setting, emotion, outlook, or thought in which you feel happy, at peace, warm, thankful and an opportunity to shut out the rest of the world. It’s different for everyone, but it makes you content, fortunate and comforted.
It may sound strange to many people, but when I look at, or especially when I put on a flannel shirt, that moment becomes a happy place for me. Flannel shirts are not just a soft, warm, comfortable feeling, but it’s the mental state it puts me in. It’s the memories I had while wearing flannel, it’s what the shirts represents and, well, read on and I’ll explain more at the end.
Here is a nice story in which I feel embraces Happy Flannel Group…
The Den
There's an older gentleman wearing an aged olive drab green and black buffalo plaid flannel shirt sitting in his favorite deep brown leather chair. A timeless elegant chair with tufted back and seat and riveted details. It's almost as old as he is and even bears similar wrinkles and scars from years of experience and life. The chair, in a small den, is surrounded by waist high dark walnut stained wood panels and trim, solid original hard wood plank floors, a stone fireplace and floor to ceiling shelves bursting with books upon more books.
Though, some shelves have a few decades of Field and Stream magazines, L.L.Bean and Cabela catalogs, picture frames with family photos and a fine collection of pipes, jars and tins of pipe tobacco, a modest humidor filled to the brim with rewarding cigars all surrounded by their useful and needed accoutrements.
A soft hunter green rug keeps a matching leather footrest close making the old man's feet comfortable especially when he dons the warm red buffalo plaid slippers he received two birthdays ago from his loving wife. The walls, above the walnut panels, soak in the soft light displaying its rich dusky sage green paint and showcasing quaint paintings from Norman Rockwell, an old black and white photo of his parents on their wedding day and an antique double barrel shotgun which hasn’t been fired since the 1950s.
Across from the bookshelf is a large bay window overlooking a small well-manicured yard, a modest creek which comes through a corn field on one side of the property and disappears into a thick pine tree wood line on the other side. Not far from the window outside, above a handsome row of Ninebark bushes, hanging from a beautiful red maple tree, are three bird feeders. The old man always keeps the feeders full year-round to enjoy his feathered visitors. He loves watching the bluejays, cardinals, and chickadees, the woodpeckers and crows as well as the non-feathered frequent guests of deer and squirrels. There’s even been wild turkeys and a fox who wander the yard now and then.
It is the season of autumn. Crisp comfortable temperatures of 58 degrees has been the normal atmosphere the last few days. Just cool enough to know it’s the autumn season letting you utilize the fireplace and wear your favorite jeans and flannel shirts. The colors outside among the oaks, maples and birch trees have been nothing short of spectacular. Even though the green grass is now covered in decaying leaves, the old man spends as much time outside as he can, though raking and pruning, but enjoying the seasonal opportunities.
The aroma within the den is a fusion of applewood burning in the fireplace, a “Pumpkin Cider” candle flickers on a small table next to the chair and the desired wafting scent of aromatic pipe tobacco. The old man takes his time packing one of many coveted pipes relishing in the ritual and tradition. Today it’s a Savinelli Rustic Author pipe filled with “Autumn Evening”. Each flick of the lighter and puff makes the old man smile. The window is open a crack…to let the smoke drift out and to let the crisp autumn air sail in.
There’s an old Victrola radio in the corner of the room softly playing. It was handed down from his father just before he passed. His father loved the radio, listening to it nightly instead of watching the television. The Victrola is on an old FM station which plays the ageless songs of the 40’s and 50’s. It’s generally a mix of big band, jazz and swing.
On the small table next to the old man is a glass. He reaches for it and takes a sip. The large cube of ice clinks on the side. He closes his eyes, swallows and smiles. It’s an Old Fashioned, his favorite drink for the last 40 years. He’s always been a bourbon connoisseur having many bottles within the house. Today, it’s Woodford Reserve Double Oak. A masculine warm tasty bourbon perfect for a late autumn afternoon.
He takes another sip of bourbon and a few more puffs of his pipe. He watches as the bluejays and the crows jockey for positions where the old man left a pile of corn earlier in the day. He looks around the den…at the family photos, his pipe and cigar collection, his old worn cowboy hat hanging by his dirty and frayed farming hats and then looks at and feels his flannel shirt. He takes in a deep breath …and smiles.
This story is one of my ideas of a happy place. Happy moments. Perfect scenes in time. These are a few of my happy flannel moments.
The other aspect of the story…
I love flannel. There, I said it. Anyone who knows me knows it’s no secret that I love flannel. I currently own 26 flannel shirts…some are my everyday flannels (or as I lovingly refer to them as my “fancy flannels”), and the others are my working at home or relaxing at home flannels (these are shirts that used to be my good flannels, but over time they have wrinkled, worn or torn, but no way would I toss them!) I don’t remember when my true love of flannel started, certainly when I was young (and before the whole Grunge music scene came along). I can tell you that especially the last 20 years of my life has been enveloped in the love of flannel shirts and blankets. There’s just something about…donning a flannel shirt.
For me, it’s not just the look and feel of the flannel shirts, (which they are extremely comfortable and for the record my favorite design is the buffalo plaid), but I guess it’s also what they represent:
It’s the hard-working man or woman who embraces a life of working with their hands, creating, and doing what needs to be done. It’s maintaining a home, working on a vehicle, chopping firewood, camping in the wilderness, fishing, farming the fields, canoeing a calm river, hunting, hiking with a family dog, morning coffee on the front porch, picnics at the park, feeding livestock, and on and on.
And flannel, to me, has always represented the seasons of autumn and winter (Which in all honesty, I prefer autumn over winter, but I’m happy wearing flannel during the cold winter months). I do love and embrace the Spring and Summer months, however I do get a little depressed knowing I won’t be able to wear my beloved flannel. I did, however, discover cowboy shirts which look a lot like the flannel, only thinner and manageable in the warmer months.