Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Bliss is GO!

A bunch of like-minded folks riding bikes, drinking homebrewed beer, and sharing tasty eats... sound fun? I just found out that the 2nd annual Bootlegger's Bliss has been put on the calendar.
Date: November 3rd
Riding: sure to be sick
Price of admission: 1 six-pack of homebrew and some food to share
Location: top secret

Get the skinny over at Wrench in the Gears.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Lager Delirium

Lager... birds... footie... fags....
Fags... footie... birds... lager!

Lager! Birds! Footie! Fags!

La la la la... lager delirium.

-Bad Manners

I brewed my first lager on the 10th...a Munich dunkel, to be exact. All went well, but I'm not used to the waiting. All my brews to date have been ales and I'm usually drinking them within a month of brewing them. Lager, from the German lagern ("to store"), is a beer that's fermented relatively cold and then stored for a month or more at close to freezing temperatures to clarify the beer's appearance and smooth the flavor. Mine has only been lagering since the 18th and has a way to go, yet I still peek in the lagering cooler a couple times a day. I don't know what I'm expecting to see. It's just a big tank of brown liquid. Actually, it's a big tank of brown beer. I should go check on it...

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Post #1

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone
By streams that never find the sea
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains of the moon.

Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.

-JRR Tolkein

My name is Tim. I grew up in Small Town, America and couldn't wait to get out... few open doors, fewer open minds. Eventually I made the trek to the big city and got a job working for The Man. Nine years goes by and I realize it's killing me. Sure, I met the love of my life, had a son, met some great people, and did some fun things in that time, but they are the shining stars in an otherwise empty sky. Small Town, America, with all of its faults, is looking like a pretty nice place to be. So, "...feet that wandering have gone turn at last to home afar..."