Rescue me, beer! (a bit of a rant)
Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2015 5:14 am
The pest/termite season has hit here in my neck of the woods, so we're naturally going to be busy. I expect that. But last week and this week it's also converged with what I've come to call the End-of-Month-Crazies, where we always seem to be scrambling to a) finish our work and b) get more sales and initial work done. As an extra added attraction, last Thursday one of our guys hurt his back and has been out, so our service manager has been working those accounts and juggling things around.
Last week I worked six days. Two of them were 12-hour days, and on Saturday (usually a five-hour day at most) I worked at least 7 hours. I worked 12 hours yesterday, I have a ton of work today, including four initial services, and tomorrow I've been given a bunch of services that belong to the injured guy.
I'm also concerned because there are two more weeks left in bowling league, and my team is in first place, and I lead in individual points. I want to be able to contribute to my team's effort, and stay in the lead, but I know I'll be exhausted by Friday night.
My life is just crazy right now.
But I've got a batch of South Ferry Steam Beer in the closet. The temperature peaked at 77 degrees during the most active fermentation phase, and I just have a good feeling about it. This past Sunday I brewed a batch of Straw Boater, and it krausened very nicely. I also have a good feeling about that. I took a peek recently at the Ottertoberfest which I put in a secondary a couple weeks ago, and on which I am slowly lowering the temperature (it's at 44 right now). It's the most beautiful, clear coppery color. I know my patience will pay off this fall. And this coming Sunday I'm going to brew a nice big batch of Crown Top Pale Ale, which will be kegged and ready to enjoy during the early summer months.
There's so much to appreciate about homebrew, as we know. We get the satisfaction of making excellent beer ourselves. We can customize the beer we drink, and we get immense creative satisfaction out of honing a recipe to get it just right. But I've always maintained that, for me, it's more than a hobby. It's even more than an obsession. It's my therapy. No matter how crazy and frustrating things get, I have brew day to look forward to. The aroma of freshly-crushed grains, that first intoxicating whiff of malted barley meeting hot water as I begin the mash, the sight of the first runnings, the precision of timing the hops additions, the whole routine of the process. I do it for me. I do it because beer brings balance and sanity back into my life. I don't know what craziness Monday may dump on me, and it doesn't matter what craziness I experienced the previous week. Sunday is brew day. It restores me, as it's no doubt restored millions of people throughout mankind's history.
Beer is life.
Thanks for reading.
Last week I worked six days. Two of them were 12-hour days, and on Saturday (usually a five-hour day at most) I worked at least 7 hours. I worked 12 hours yesterday, I have a ton of work today, including four initial services, and tomorrow I've been given a bunch of services that belong to the injured guy.
I'm also concerned because there are two more weeks left in bowling league, and my team is in first place, and I lead in individual points. I want to be able to contribute to my team's effort, and stay in the lead, but I know I'll be exhausted by Friday night.
My life is just crazy right now.
But I've got a batch of South Ferry Steam Beer in the closet. The temperature peaked at 77 degrees during the most active fermentation phase, and I just have a good feeling about it. This past Sunday I brewed a batch of Straw Boater, and it krausened very nicely. I also have a good feeling about that. I took a peek recently at the Ottertoberfest which I put in a secondary a couple weeks ago, and on which I am slowly lowering the temperature (it's at 44 right now). It's the most beautiful, clear coppery color. I know my patience will pay off this fall. And this coming Sunday I'm going to brew a nice big batch of Crown Top Pale Ale, which will be kegged and ready to enjoy during the early summer months.
There's so much to appreciate about homebrew, as we know. We get the satisfaction of making excellent beer ourselves. We can customize the beer we drink, and we get immense creative satisfaction out of honing a recipe to get it just right. But I've always maintained that, for me, it's more than a hobby. It's even more than an obsession. It's my therapy. No matter how crazy and frustrating things get, I have brew day to look forward to. The aroma of freshly-crushed grains, that first intoxicating whiff of malted barley meeting hot water as I begin the mash, the sight of the first runnings, the precision of timing the hops additions, the whole routine of the process. I do it for me. I do it because beer brings balance and sanity back into my life. I don't know what craziness Monday may dump on me, and it doesn't matter what craziness I experienced the previous week. Sunday is brew day. It restores me, as it's no doubt restored millions of people throughout mankind's history.
Beer is life.
Thanks for reading.
