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October 9, 2014 / Gregory Williams

Damn Fine Night in the Village

It’s a good thing that the weather is warm, the moon is bright, and our little street is quiet tonight. Not for any particular reason mind you, it’s just always a good thing when one’s environment is peaceful and pleasing to the eye. So many are not.

Of course the day did have it’s ups and downs. There was work, and if that wasn’t enough work required extra attention and diligence and the breaking of routines to deal with a sticky little highly visible problem. I’m a creature of habit and when my habits are interrupted something is wrong. Damn Fine Night

Then came the beer. The first batch brewed a week and one half ago was ready to be moved from the primary fermenter into the secondary. In short, five gallons reduced to four due to a clog in the spigot caused by an unstrained whole hop flower. So close to the bottom and with the integrity of the whole batch at stake, one can’t just stick a paper clip up there you know. On the bright side the toddler was helping me, and that was adorable for all the questions and because she was so excited to be helping.

“What’s this called Papa?”

“A secondary fermenter”

“Secary ermentor?”

“Yes.”

“An this?”

“Primary fermenter.”

“Imary ermentor?”

“Yes”.

“What’s this called?”

“A primary fermenter…”

And so on, from “iphon hose” to “ai lock”.

When we were finished transferring the wort, with the stinky mess that is a freshly emptied fermenter, I found the kitchen drain clogged. Flipping on the disposal just made a god damn fountain, and the toddler’s inquisitive nature had to be stifled for the use of liquid drain opener and a plunger. There are just some things a toddler shouldn’t be around to ask questions about, and one of them is anything that involves liquid bases and plungers.

And when I sat down to eat my Sloppy Joe, the teenager called. It’s that time for her to fill out paperwork for college, art school actually. I was impressed by her urgency, she was all business. “Thanks! I’m going to go work on this then.”

Any road, I’m writing this while enjoying a pint, listening to the soft babbling of a bubbling airlock that tells me four gallons ferment as well as five. Ups and downs aren’t really much considering my girls, and the lovely night outside. Even if I am still sort of working.

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