Tag Archives: beer

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Random nonsense

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While I’ve been known to enjoy some oddly flavored beer …

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That’s a hearty no from me. Pretzels belong in a bowl on the bar… to make you thirsty for more beer… not in the bottle you’re drinking. Blech!

For the first time in over a year, I lost a game of Scrabble to my husband. But in my defense?

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Even Noah Webster would have a hard time with those letters.

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We had a nice rain storm pass through recently so the husband and I took to the barn porch with adult beverages. He was interested to see if his leaky gutter repair worked ( it did ) and if his strategically placed rock ( which I told him was too small ) would protect the lawn from a rain induced pothole. ( it partially did )

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And in case you’re wanting a piece of jewelry to commemorate the shit show of the last year?

I have just the thing.

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You’re welcome.

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It’s official..

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Hooray!

We are now officially a two keg family.

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Yes, I finally chose a beer to tap. Naturally it was the most expensive one out there at literally twice the price of my husband’s.

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But look how much more fabulous my tap handle is.

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Duchesse de Bourgogne…. a richly textured sour red Flemish ale with a chocolate top note and wild cherry undertone. Brewed in Belgium and aged in oak barrels for 18 months, it’s pure heaven!

And the husband hates it so it’s mine. All mine.

*cue the evil laugh*

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Look at this handle. I mean really, it doesn’t get much better than that.

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Except for the fact mine towers over the husband’s. That’s pretty sweet as well.

👍

And in case you’re wondering…

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It’s all in the wrist.

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Well, not really… but it seemed like a better title than ‘Glass Full of Foam’.

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Yes, we let the keg sit still overnight. And yes, we had the kegerator set to the proper temperature… but we were still getting full glasses of foam. The only thing left to do was adjust the CO2 flow, you know…. the thing I kept telling my husband we had to do even though he said we absolutely positively didn’t have to.

So I did what any self respecting beer drinker would do…. I sent him to the house on an errand, then made the adjustment myself.

Viola!

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The perfect glass of beer. ( And yes, the placement of my “At Last” prohibition glass from the FDR museum in Hyde Park was most definitely on purpose )

Did you know fruit flies are attracted to beer taps? I didn’t either, but who can blame them.

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The solution? Plug the tap when not in use. And if you want to put your womanly mark on the man cave? Do it with a pink wine bottle stopper.

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That way it will match the pink bell and pink cocktail napkins already on the bar.

🤣

Next up was the shorty tap handle I ordered from Allagash.

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I’ve been told I can pick something for myself for the second keg. Hmm…

My favorite amber ale? That luscious chocolate cherry sour? Or maybe a nice hard cider?

Decisions, decisions.

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Because things never go smoothly around here.

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Not wanting to kill each so late in the day, we saved assembly of the kegerator until Saturday morning. Relaxing weekend my *ss. 🥴

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The first step on the way to cold beer was finding a place to fill the (brand new and shiny apple red!) CO2 tank required for tapping a keg. Had I known it would not be coming back home with us, I would have taken its picture. So clean and pretty! But alas in our part of the world no one fills CO2 tanks, they just exchange them. So bye bye lovely sparkling new red tank, and hello old, scuffed, ugly metal version.

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The regulator was easy to attach, and the husband managed to do it without blowing himself up … so I call that a win.

Next up was clamping the hoses to the keg couplers. They came with 4 of these ridiculous plastic things….

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Only one of which worked.

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Husband promptly broke the other 3 then stormed off to the local hardware store for the normal adjustable metal versions.

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Tank and regulator placed on shelf? Check!

Hoses clamped onto couplers and attached to tank? Check!

All that was left was to tap the keg…. and since the husband hadn’t done that anytime in the current century?

It did not go well.

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But can I get a round of applause for the perfectly timed photograph?

I’m so good…. it’s frightening.

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Beer went everywhere. On the floor, on the window, on the mini fridge, everywhere but in our mouths… which is usually where you want to direct it.

And then, when the keg was finally put in position and tapped?

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Pure foam.

😬

To be continued….

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It’s finally here!

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Yes, after ordering one in January, receiving it in February, sending it back due to damage in March, waiting for a refund until May, ordering another one in June….

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In August… we finally (why the hell was that was so hard?) have a kegorator!!!

Naturally, with my husband at the helm…. delivery to the man cave did not go smoothly.

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Drive much? And yes, it was my car he used to ram into the garden bed bricks. Geesh!

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Numerous pieces and parts accompanied the unit.

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Which barely fit in between the bar and my (heavily loaded because yes, a girl needs variety) booze laden shelves.

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But there she is… in place, a dual tapper!

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Of course we had to rush right out and purchase a keg of the husband’s favorite Belgian. (Heavier than it looks. Damn!)

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Allagash White, from a local Maine brewery.

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And then came the holy shit we might need an engineer dreaded assembly instructions.

To be continued….

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How odd.

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We had an odd sun reflection in our living room last week.

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Strange coincidence … or alien targeting technology?

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Time will tell.

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Martin, I immediately thought of you. But, blech! It’s still a giant no from where I’m sitting.

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A few of my friends might get this for Christmas. You know who you are… but what makes it odd is the label. ‘Nice Stuff For Mom’. I don’t know about you, but I never tipped back half a dozen martinis with my mother.

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And finally, anatomically correct beer glasses. While I can almost see the appeal of the female version…. the hourglass figure makes for a good grip… the male glass is more than a trifle disturbing.

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Someone thought this was a good idea.

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While at our local pub last week, a patron who was sitting on the other side of the bar bravely ordered this:

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Yes, you read that correctly. The beer was brewed with gummy bears. Why such an atrocity should take place I don’t know… but he laughed and gagged and promptly pushed the can back at the bartender who attempted to throw it away. I say attempted because you know my husband wasn’t going to let that happen.

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Yes, the beer was pink.

Yes, it tasted as horrible as you would imagine pink gummy bear beer would taste.

But you know what? The husband drank it anyway… because free beer is free beer.

🥴

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Shopping for cats.

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My Facebook page is currently flooded with cat related products. I’m not complaining, it certainly beats the ball wash and butt deodorant I used to see. And hey… if I enjoy doing beer flights?

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I’m sure Lord Dudley Mountcatten would not be averse to a flight of kitty chronic.

This next product looked promising for me winning the cat box war.

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Though ridiculously large, it’s self contained and would stop our furry menace from flinging litter.

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Hmm. Guess that’s a no.

And I hate to admit it but yes, I broke down and ordered something silly.

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A personalized mask of me and Dudley. Granted I haven’t worn a cropped, midriff baring blouse in 20 (okay, 25. Geesh!) years…. but the hair color and wide hips are pretty close.

😉

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That’s trippy dude.

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The husband’s birthday was this month, and for the past decade I’ve been giving him experience gifts rather than material things…. because we all know the man has more than enough stuff. Over the years I’ve gifted him a trip to a spooky old hotel in the Poconos that felt like the Overlook in Stephen King’s The Shining…

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The place was huge!

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So huge I could never manage to get a shot of the entire thing in frame.  And we were literally the only guests.

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Room after room.

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Floor after floor.

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All to ourselves.

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I expected to see the twins every time we walked to our room. Uber creepy.

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I’ve given him beer making classes….

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Look at all those serious student faces.

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And seeing him stir an actual pot? Was well worth the student fee.

I even gave him  falconry training.

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That was awesome. If you ever have the chance, take it.

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They really are spectacular creatures.

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And hey, where else do you get to walk around with a bag of decapitated quails?

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But last year brought Covid and the romantic getaway to the coastal resort I chose was cancelled. This year? We didn’t go anywhere either so along with a few Marine Corps themed items and a handful of vintage Red Sox collectibles… I got him something for the man cave.

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Doesn’t look impressive you say?

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Trust me, it is.

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I’m imaging many alcohol induced oohs and ahs when we plop this baby on the bar.

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👍