The Buzz: Siciliano’s Market News & Notes

I'm not sure why the deer are so hell bent on crossing that road.

When you lose a trophy you're allowed a few moments of sulking. Then you remind yourself that you're in Montana on the famous Madison River

Barb and I would sip our pre breakfast coffee on the porch while watching the sun inch up over the high peaks of the Madison Range.

As I get older I'm finding it harder to discard things like holey T-shirts, frayed flannels and tattered old wallets.

Deadline for ordering wine kits is approaching

A note about our beer selection and don't forget about sale week Preamble by Kati Spayde I wrestled the reins away from Steve for a week...

This week's list of new and returning products follows information about the 2020 edition of the annual Siciliano's beer & winemaking sale

Winexpert's New Wine Kit Portfolio

I would love to own a split bamboo fly rod someday but I doubt that will ever happen because a good one can run a cool seven G's.

This past week the mystery of the disappearing chipmunks was solved when we began spotting a trio of hawks patrolling the backyard.

New Michigan Hop Varieties Now in Stock at Siciliano's

Rumor has it that Satan doesn't have much of a sense of humor and I doubt if the damned have access to bourbon and cigars.

This week's list of new and returning products follows a few words about whiling away time on a rainy day Preamble by Steve Siciliano The...

The performers were a group of wildlife that frequently visit our backyard.

I'll slip inside and as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dusty gloom I'll breathe in the fading scents of local history.

If it's too hot, too cold or too wet to be outside, Barb and l will often retreat to the rustic comfort of our cinder block garage.

As much as I enjoy fly fishing for trout, I think it’s almost as fun using light fly tackle to angle for the diminutive bluegill.

I guess I found the movie so disturbing because it depicts a true story--real politicians hoodwinking a real citizenry about a real war.

One morning last week I sat on that bench and smoked my pipe and watched Barb play a nice brookie.

“It’s good to kind of see your ugly face again,” Mike said to me as he made his way over to the cider cooler.