Languid softly colored lace
Filled with scented fragrant grace.

Have you ever come to a really horrible realization?
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I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that.

This Christmas I received some presents I had asked for… and the ones I wish to let you know about now were brewing ingredients! I received the ingredients necessary to brew a Double IPA, and a Russian Imperial Stout. On December 31st I brewed the Double IPA, and christened it the “Hoppy New Year Ale”. Today, I have just racked it to the secondary fermenter. It clocked in at 1.076 OG on brew day, and it went into secondary at 1.015. It looks, smells, and tastes good. One thing is for sure… it’s a hop monster.

There are two things I did with this brew that I’ve never done before. One is using oak chips. The recipe called for oak chips in the secondary fermenter… and in they went. Looks like bark. Hmmm.

The second thing is dry hopping. Dry hopping (which isn’t dry) involves putting hops in the secondary fermenter to re-infuse the beer with the volatile hop oils that are usually blown off during primary fermentation. This gives the beer a heck of an aroma. Like a blast of hops straight up your nostrils. Lovely! But I’m dry hopping using pellet hops, which look roughly like rabbit feed and turn to mush when wet. So I stuck ‘em in a nylon hop sack, and crammed it into the secondary fermenter (a glass carboy). Getting that sucker out after secondary is bound to be fun, but hopefully it will cut down on hop detritus when it comes time to keg it.

The current plan is to leave the beer on the oak and the hops for a week, then I’m going to crash cool that sucker (to clear the beer) and keg it.

It feels really good to get back into brewing. Now I just have to plan the brew day for the Imperial Stout.

Za Vas!

Over the last few years I have really begun to struggle with my weight. 11 years ago, I weighed a mere 145 lbs. Since then I have put on roughly 100 more.

Early on, I found it fairly easy to maintain a healthy weight. I didn’t really have to think about it. As I’ve gotten older, that has slowly changed.

I attribute the first 20 lbs I gained to the simple fact that my wife is a very good cook. I gained those 20 lbs and then just sort of maintained that weight… until I quit smoking. The next 50 lbs I attribute more or less directly to the hell of breaking a firmly-entrenched nicotine addiction. I maintained 215 - 220 lbs for a long time, and then started a distressing trend a few years ago. I began to very slowly, but very steadily, gain weight.

Of course, this is just the summary version of events. Lots of other ups and downs went into the time line. I tried running for a while, and it was something I really enjoyed. But I found I was unable to keep it up on any sort of day-to-day basis. I wasn’t, for whatever reason, able to make the lifestyle change required to really make that work for me as a method of weight control. I still would like to get back to running at some point, as there is no doubt it was doing wonders for my level of fitness.

More recently, meaning a few months ago, I was reading some articles about new data in the excersize/dieting world, as relates to health and weight loss. The new findings suggested a few things.

One is that exercise doesn’t really affect weight loss. It does have some effect, but the effect is much smaller than was previously believed. Running marathons will obviously affect your weight loss (or gain) drastically, but for folks who work out for 30 minutes 3 times a week… not so much. Exercising that much has a wonderful effect on your level of fitness, and for that reason people really ought to put in the effort to work out at least that much. If your quest, however, is to drop some pounds, then you need to be looking at your diet.

Another thing that the new findings (and numerous older findings as well) suggest is that not all calories are created equal. The simplistic view that weight is only a function of calories in - calories out is still basically true, but there are biases in the way your body processes food that makes the equation a bit more complicated. The short version, as I read it, is that your body tends to want to store simple carbohydrates (sugar, starch, and, alas, beer) as fat, instead of burning it directly for energy. The flip side is that your body tends to want to burn complex carbohydrates and protein instead of storing it as fat. Or phrased another way, a 1000 calorie dinner of pasta marinara will put more on your thighs than will a 1000 calorie spring salad topped with grilled chicken.

These things suggested a fairly simple change for me. I resolved to switch, as much as possible, my food intake away from simple carbs and toward complex carbs and protein. A few things have really helped me make this change, and I believe that this is a change I will be able to sustain long term:

First, I am not a fanatic about it. I can still go and have a burger and fries for lunch… though I am trying to keep such occurrences down to at most once a week. And hopefully more like once every two weeks. I still very much enjoy some fine beers from time to time throughout the week. I haven’t given that up. But I keep an eye on what I’m consuming, and I now consume far fewer simple carbs than I used to.

Second, I have found an outstanding little shop within easy walking distance for lunch, that sells salad, from a well-stocked salad bar, by the pound. Eating salad all by itself doesn’t really work for me, but keeping in mind that protein is also on the “good” list, I started adding lean meats and/or low-fat cottage cheese to my lunches. This helps me feel full, and helps me stay full until (roughly) dinner time. Something salad all by itself doesn’t really do for me. Add in some decent salad dressing, and though I am still getting a pretty substantial lunch (about 1 to 1.5 lbs of food!), it’s all complex carbs and protein. No simple carbs at all.

Third, and this is already implied but bears stating clearly; I’m not really eating less than I used to. I’m not feeling hungry all the time. I’m still having the same size portions that I have grown accustomed to. They just now contain fewer simple carbs than they used to.

I’ve been doing this now for about 2 months, and I have had very non-dramatic, but very steady, weight loss. And, more importantly for me, I feel like I will have no problem at all maintaining my current habits for the foreseeable future.

Yesterday, I was down 10 lbs from when I started this experiment. I am very pleased with that.

I ran across this poem while perusing a local RSS feed, and I wanted to save it. The post where I found it was written by Pomoyemu, and the poem itself was written by Veronica Shoffstall. Look inside (or follow the links) to read the poem.

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Michael Jackson has passed away.

He undoubtedly had one of the best jobs in the world. His passing is a loss indeed to the community of those who enjoy fine beer and whiskey, as well as to all who knew him.

Many will remember him. And his last column, currently available on the front page of All About Beer, seems eerily prophetic.

Here’s to you, Michael!

“We have this kitten…” I knew from how it started that this was going to be bad. “The mail man found it, and told us to take a look at it to see if it was all right.” As the story went on, I could tell right off that it sounded rather grim. A very young cat, eyes not opening all the way, found alone in the grass with no momma cat nearby. Looked like maybe it had been dropped or something. Mewing weakly. My wife asked if I could pick up some kitten milk and a kitten bottle from a pet-food store on the way home from work. I said I would, and I asked her if she knew its chances weren’t very good. She said she did.

When I got home with the milk, we tried to get it to drink some. It complained a little bit, mewed, pulled away. We persisted for a little bit. It looked like it may have gotten a few swallows of the kitten milk formula down. We didn’t really know what to do for the kitten… so we kept it bundled up in an old shirt, and placed it in a shoe box.

It was such a little bitty thing. Not even a handful for me. It rested easily in my palm, with room to spare. It wouldn’t open its eyes, and seemed very content to lay up against you and get warm, and try to sleep.

After a quick Google search I learned that the cat must be under about 3 or 4 days old, as the umbilicus was still attached. I learned that we should keep it warm… between 85 and 90F. I learned that it may not want to drink its formula, but that we should persist. I learned that it wouldn’t go to the bathroom on its own, but that it had to be stimulated. I learned that if it was laying still, and not crying very much, that it must be getting weaker…

We set up a bigger box, with a heating pad under several layers of blanket to keep it warm. I set up a neat little temperature alert thermometer that would tell us if the box got too warm, or too cold (yes, I’m a geek). We got it to go to the bathroom, just like the friendly websites told us. We tried to get it to eat… but that part wasn’t going so well. I was worried that it was getting dehydrated. It had already missed several meals… as they need to eat every couple of hours at that age… and we didn’t know how long it had been separated from its mother. I persisted for some time, trying to get it to eat, but it just didn’t want to take the formula. I would talk to it while I tried, I would coax it, and ended up dubbing it “Baby Cat” for lack of a more original name.

After trying for more than an hour to get it to take some formula (after cleaning it, and getting it to eliminate), the poor thing just looked so exhausted, so we bundled it up warm in its box, and set it next to us in the room as we finished our normal nightly routines.

About an hour later my wife looked at it in its box and asked… “Did it… did it die?”

It had.

It’s odd, really. We only knew Baby Cat for about 5 hours or so. We knew right off the bat that the odds were against the little kitten. But we’re still sad now that the little critter is gone. It hardly seems fair… but I don’t know if that’s for Baby Cat, or for us.

Pretend like I wasted a whole paragraph saying what a sucky blogger I am and complaining about it.

Now that that is out of the way… I’ve been thinking lately about little epiphanies.  Specifically, those little epiphanies where you suddenly realize that other people really don’t have all the answers, that they’re just human too, and that they’re making stuff up as they go along just like I am.

The first time that happened, it was actually a pretty big epiphany.  I was young, possibly pre-teen, or newly teenaged, when I suddenly realized that my parents didn’t have all the answers, didn’t know everything, and didn’t always know what to do for any given situation.  This immediately made sense for me, and applied across a lot of other groups I’d previously held in fairly high esteem in those regards (teachers, authority figures of various sorts).

Since then it’s been other, smaller epiphanies.  Realizing that celebrities are just people who are thrust into (or have foolishly chosen) the spotlight, losing what little privacy is left to most of us.  Realizing that cops are just as imperfect as everyone else, but are also encouraged to carry high-powered firearms.  Realizing that sometimes the only difference between someone who is “great” and someone who is “normal” is having the guts to speak up.  Ultimately, realizing that I’m never going to reach some plateau where I’ve “made it” in life, and that the struggle will continue one way or another, and that the only person I have to blame for my tribulations is myself.

And sometimes wondering if I have the guts to take the simple steps that change things.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas!

Every so often, you need a chance to decompress. Between stress in the workplace, and stress at home, it often seems like there’s just no escape.

So, now I’m playing hookey. I lined things up at work so that I could get out, and out I am. I’m sitting on our downtown mall, under a tree that’s raining red and yellow leaves, drinking a nice Dogfish Head Raison D’Etre. It’s about 74F out here right now, with an occasional light breeze that swirls the leaves around over the brickwork street. There’s wireless internet access. I think I could decompress here.

There’s still no escape, really. All the same issues are there after I’m done here as there were before I came. But maybe I’ll be in a better place to meet ‘em.

It’s worth a shot.

Happy birthday to me! Another decade rounded off and put away.

I do not feel significantly older. I have not gained any incredible new insight or wisdom. I have not, really, significantly changed from who I was a day ago. But the numbers should mean something, shouldn’t they?

Here’s to another decade.

Sand_Devil sent me some more photographs of some of the after-math of El Paso’s recent flooding event.

Enjoy the pics!

My most recent blog contributor, Sand_Devil, in addition to not posting any more, is also located in the recently flooded city of El Paso, TX. He was very nice, and sent us pictures! Here they are:

It’s been roughly two years since the last time our basement turned into a pond. But today, it decided to once again grace us with its watery serenity. Fortunately, the plumber was responsive and was out to our house within 2 hours of our call, on a Sunday afternoon, no less. Now, only $370 later, our pipes have been snaked, cleared, and treated with anti-tree-root stuff.

Bah. These pipes.

All us slacker posters do this every once in a while. It’s been so long since we posted that we have to round up the so-called “highlights” of the last several days/weeks/months since the last post we grudgingly turned loose upon those few who actually stumble across our blogs from time to time (usually on their way to webmail, hi sis!). These posts are usually filled with inane drivel, and pointless ramblings. This is one of those posts.

You’ve been warned.

There haven’t been very many “highs” in the highlights, which, I suppose, would account for most of the silence here. I’ve never liked going to some blog and reading about what a drag life has been for someone. It just isn’t, I dunno, uplifting. And so, I’ve never been the sort to post the day-to-day inanity of a life that consists of sleep, work, eat, work, eat, work, rinse, repeat. Throw in the inevitable pains, and you end up with a rather bland view of life. Who wants to read about that?

Though, to be fair, the rare patch of beauty shines through the fog of dreary survival, to remind us that there are certainly worse alternatives to life.

But we’ll start with the mucky stuff. There has been much marital strife. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Additionally, I’ve been sick for the second time in the last year. The good thing is that it’s only the second time… the year before that, seemed like I couldn’t go a month without something infecting me. Immediately upon my recovery, my wife came down with whatever it was that got me. Unfortuately, she took it and ran with it. Then she caught something else… a strep infection. We didn’t know that bit at first though, which was rather unfortunate (as you’ll soon see).

One of the highlights was that I also got the chance to go on a mini-vacation. I had a bit of money put aside to do something with the kids, and we decided on a trip to the beach. We’d leave on a Thursday, and come back on Saturday or Sunday. So, my three kids and I headed east for what adventure we could find on the coast. There was minor adventure to be had, and I believe it’s safe to say that we were soaking it up. We wandered around the tourist-oriented environs of the local boardwalk, bought trinkets and supplies at the local hungry-eyed merchants’ pavilions, lazed about on the beach (a little bit), swum in the ocean and the pool, gazed off our 10th floor balcony overlooking the beach and ocean, watched the local live talent show off their skills for our amusement, and of course, we all ate way too much, but there’s no place to hit a seafood buffet like the coast, right? The all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet (with pancakes, waffles, omelettes, and french toast made to order while you watch) didn’t help much either. Funny how much pleasure we derive from stuffing our faces more than is good for us, but I digress.

So, remember that strep infection? It turns out that if you get a strep infection to go systemic, either spreading about your upper body, or worse yet, in your blood stream, it causes a disease known as scarlet fever. Guess how I found this out.

Not only did she get scarlet fever, she got scarlet fever that was fairly resistant to antibiotic treatment. My poor wife spent 6 days in the hospital, after a precipitous arrival in a rescue squad, called when my mother-in-law took a look at a particularly distressing looking rash that was taking over my wife’s body. The fact that my wife had also become deleriously feverish with a temperature over 104F contributed, I understand. The first little while that she was in the hospital was actually somewhat touch-and-go. This took place while I and the kids were sunnin’ ourselves on the sand a mere 3 hour drive to the east.

So, having just decided that we’d go ahead and stay until Sunday… on Saturday morning, around 7:30am, I got a call on my cell phone from my wife’s hospital room, tellin’ me she needed me. So we packed it in and headed home. As I mentioned before, she was in for six days. So the next week or so after that was spent trying to divide my time among the kids at home, work, and my wife in the hospital. Not very restful, as you can imagine, but I guarantee she had a worse time than I did.

She did get to come home, though, and has been home for a few days, and is still convalescing. It appears that we’ve probably got another couple of weeks before she’s fully recovered, and that’s if no complications set in. Whee.

There’s really not much else to report. Work has continued to be far more challenging than my previous job, and in many ways more rewarding. But, mostly, life has been about surviving. Waiting. Weathering what seems to be constant storms, and looking forward to a ray of sunshine. There’s been a few times where it seemed the sun was about to burst through… but so far it’s always been followed by yet another storm.

I’d better quit before this analogy rains itself right out.