It’s all in the wort

I think I may take up beermaking again.

It’s been a while since the folks over at Comrades Brewing showed me how to make beer.

I’ve done the steeped grains and the whole grains methods.

Personally, I like steeped grains the best.

Far less calculations involved in steeped grains but adding maltose to the mix does feel like cheating (a bit).

In any case, I have plenty of time on my hands to start making beer.

And according to Tejas, who is an authority on this matter, I can make up to 200 gallons of home brew per year.

Nice!

I sure wouldn’t mind making another batch of the first beer I ever made – a Baltic Porter with a whopping 9.5% ABV.

Mind you, it’s been SIX years since I made it in September of 2014.

Somehow I managed to retain the recipe

This beer turned out so good that my mechanic took bottles of beer in lieu of payment for services rendered to my truck.

I can only hope to get so lucky again.

Drowning my sorrows

I got out of the house this weekend.

Yes, I did!

I went on a run to BevMo to get more booze for the wet bar.

Turns out, during a pandemic, people are drinking more at home.

Go figure!

I resisted the urge to buy stock in virtually everything they offered.

Instead I bought a handle of vodka, gin and rum.

I also picked up some delicious Fever Tree Ginger Beer so I can make Moscow Mules.

Doesn’t a Moscow Mule sound delicious with all the hot weather we’ve been having?

I’m still trying to get the hang of social distancing.

I find myself getting close to people, too close some might say, by accident.

I just keep forgetting that I’m supposed to stay six feet away from another human being.

It’s because I don’t go out shopping that much.

I do a lot of shopping via DoorDash.

Groceries delivered right to your doorstep?

Perfect!

Why leave the house?

Well, I’m here to tell you that leaving the house improves my mental health.

No doubt about it.

Getting out a little improves my outlook on life and reduces the stress and strain I’ve been feeling about the pandemic.

Yes, life will go on.

And if it doesn’t, if we’re all stuck in this new reality, at least I can drown my sorrows in booze.

When you drink with your sister

In honor of my sister’s birthday today, a repost from when we experimented with Cost Plus booze.  Happy birthday sissie!  Wish I could be there to celebrate with you.

Start with a mini bottle of Champagne Pink Pop. Pick it out because it’s in a pink bottle and you think it’s pink. Discover it’s not pink and be disappointed. Try champagne and be even more disappointed. Add orange juice to make it drinkable.

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Try OREgasmic Ale by Rogue Farms, because it’s supposed to be OREgasmic. Discover OREgasmic beer tastes like dirty feet and pot ash. Definitely not orgasmic. Be disappointed.

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Try cheap stacked wine which comes in its own glass. Have low expectations. Have low expectations met. Feel foolish for trying wine which comes with a pull off lid.

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Try Blood Orange Mimosa. Suspect it’s a headache in a bottle with a screw top lid, but love it anyway.  Make your sister drink most of it after dosing it with vodka.

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Graduate to bonafide liquor – making really strong mai tai and screwdriver. Decide to hop in the hot tub naked. Have to hang foot out of hot tub because of new foot tattoo (which effing HURTS). Have sister yell at you when you accidentally dip it in the water. Feel sheepish. Snap selfie anyway.

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UPDATE:  Get RAGING cellulitis (skin infection) from dipping foot in hot tub.  Deal with your sister’s “I-told-you-so’s.”  On antibiotics.  Feel even more sheepish.

When you drink with your sister

Start with a mini bottle of Champagne Pink Pop. Pick it out because it’s in a pink bottle and you think it’s pink. Discover it’s not pink and be disappointed. Try champagne and be even more disappointed. Add orange juice to make it drinkable.

image

Try OREgasmic Ale by Rogue Farms, because it’s supposed to be OREgasmic. Discover OREgasmic beer tastes like dirty feet and pot ash. Definitely not orgasmic. Be disappointed.

image

Try cheap stacked wine which comes in its own glass. Have low expectations. Have low expectations met. Feel foolish for trying wine which comes with a pull off lid.

image image

Try Blood Orange Mimosa. Suspect it’s a headache in a bottle with a screw top lid, but love it anyway.  Make your sister drink most of it after dosing it with vodka.

image image

Graduate to bonafide liquor – making really strong mai tai and screwdriver. Decide to hop in the hot tub naked. Have to hang foot out of hot tub because of new foot tattoo (which effing HURTS). Have sister yell at you when you accidentally dip it in the water. Feel sheepish. Snap selfie anyway.

image

UPDATE:  Get RAGING cellulitis (skin infection) from dipping foot in hot tub.  Deal with your sister’s “I-told-you-so’s.”  On antibiotics.  Feel even more sheepish.

One man’s high. . .

In my life, I have handled all sorts of drunks.

The angry kind.

The physical kind.

The belligerent kind.

The happy kind.

The horny kind.

And everything in between.

If I had my pick, I’d choose to be around happy drunks.

Which is a reason why partying with Tejas is so damn fun.

He hits his limit and I’m left with what I would call one very happy drunk person.

He’s perfectly willing to follow my instructions to get dressed for bed, get into bed, and go to sleep.

Except this one time.

The best we can tell, Tejas got dosed by somebody with a drug neither of us was familiar with.

Instead of being his happy go lucky self, he started talking gibberish.

Religious nonsense.

And when I tried to get him to go to bed, he just sat in his chair and told me he would be going to bed in my bed.

I became very uncomfortable.

I walked up to the first couple I saw and told them I was scared.

The man went up to Tejas, suggested he go to bed, and then told me he thought he was okay and only needed to rest.

Later, Rangers came by and I even told them I was uncomfortable.

They assessed the situation, figured out that Tejas just needed to sleep off whatever was in his system as well, and they helped me get him to bed and followed up the next morning with a visit to our camp.

The next morning when we talked, Tejas recalled all the random drinks, jello shots, and cookies that he ate the previous night.

There’s no way to tell what really happened.

But this much is true – I was genuinely worried for him and I’ve certainly learned a valuable lesson.

One man’s high is another man’s nightmare!

Giving up booze

I made every attempt to GAIN WEIGHT my last week before my diet started.

I ate grilled cheese and fondue and pasta.

And I enjoyed it all.

Did I succeed?

No.

I lost three pounds on account of I’ve been sick like a dog with a stupid respiratory virus.

When I open my mouth to speak, I bark.

The sad reality of being sick is that NOTHING TASTES GOOD.

I tried to make myself a gin and tonic and all I tasted was a faint sour flavor when I sampled it.

Being sick prevents me from DRINKING like I usually do.

Ironically, I think that the biggest challenge to my diet will not be the lack of food or calories.

No.

It’s going to be not drinking.

I already know this.

It’s not easy for me to cut back on drinking UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, let alone eliminating it from my diet completely.

Perhaps this is a sign of a problem.

I can’t help it.

One beer becomes a glass of wine which turns into a cocktail and before I know it, I’ve had two or three drinks in a night.

My cousin Jennifer once told me that doctors classify “binge drinking” as more than two glasses of alcohol a night, to which we both replied “then every one I know is a binge drinker!”

Tejas thinks I’m crazy but I’ve bought about 50 bottles of sparkling water to replace the alcohol (and soda) I used to drink.

I just don’t like water, is all.

Of course, it does occur to me that the WHOLE REASON I have to lose weight is too many cocktails.

So this will be good for me, right?

Vomit in a can

When you’re partying with your friend Kimberly, you may just decide to pick up two jumbo cans of booze at the 7-Eleven and decide to take them back to your hotel room for a little “post-party” involving booze and kettle corn.

And you might crack open those cans of booze (which might just happen to be Mike’s Harder Cranberry Lemonade) and TAKE A HUGE SWIG. . .

. . .and declare it to taste like a can of vomit.

Yes indeed, Mike’s Harder Cranberry Lemonade COULD taste a lot like ice cold vomit in a can.

You could be quite certain that if you drank that sour, puckering swill you would ACTUALLY VOMIT FROM IT.

But just to be sure, you might take a sip of it, just to see if it’s really as bad as you think.

And yes.

No doubt about it, time to delay the “post party” plans and pour the stuff down the sink.

At least you still have popcorn!

Sneaking around naked

This may or may not have happened at Mercey Hot Springs:

After imbibing MANY gin and tonics with FRESH lime juice, an entire bottle of champagne, AND a few glasses of red wine, two women decided to sneak off to the “CLOTHING OPTIONAL” soaking tubs to take a dip in the hot water.

The hot tubs are empty and have to be filled with hot water for each user.

The hot tubs are also crawling with black beetles that have to be flushed down the drain BEFORE you can use the tubs.

So the women rinsed out their hot tubs, got rid of all the beetles, and filled their tubs with water.

Then they carefully removed their clothing, placed everything on a nearby chair, and stepped into their hot tubs to soak.

The water was hot and enveloping.

The night breeze was warm and relaxing.

One of them turned off their Coleman lantern so that they could see the lights from the stars.

As soon as the light went off, the women were cloaked in darkness.

The light from distant starts started to appear before them.

It was the Milky Way, almost close enough to touch.

So beautiful

So striking.

Before long, the women were joined by two other couples, who each snuck into their own tubs to watch the star show.

And then, one of the women started snoring.

She was sleeping in her hot tub.

Her friend, realizing it was time to take her back to the tent, rustled her awake.

“Time to go to the tent.”

In order to not put on a peep show to the light of a Coleman lantern, the women opted to wrap their towels around themselves and sneak back to their tent, hopefully avoiding staff.

The woman who was awake had a yellow towel and she wrapped it tightly around her body.

The sleepy woman did not do very well wrapping up her nudity. She was losing her towel right and left, so much that the other woman had to turn off the lantern lest they be seen in the light.

They carefully made their way, giggling loudly, in the dark to the campsite.

Home sweet home!

When you drink with your sister

Start with a mini bottle of Champagne Pink Pop. Pick it out in a pink bottle thinking it’s pink. Discover it’s not pink and be disappointed. Try champagne and be even more disappointed. Add orange juice to make it drinkable.

image

Try OREgasmic Ale by Rogue Farms, because it’s supposed to be OREgasmic. Discover OREgasmic beer tastes like dirty feet and pot ash. Definitely not orgasmic. Be disappointed.

image

Try cheap stacked wine which comes in its own glass. Have low expectations. Have low expectations met. Feel foolish for trying wine which comes with a pull off lid.

image

image

Try Blood Orange Mimosa. Suspect it’s a headache in a bottle with a screw top lid, but love it anyway.  Make your sister drink most of it after dosing it with vodka.

image

image

 Graduate to bonafide liquor – making really strong mai tai and screwdriver. Decide to hop in the hot tub naked. Have to hang foot out of hot tub because of new foot tattoo (which effing HURTS). Have sister yell at you when you accidentally dip it in the water. Feel sheepish. Snap selfie anyway.

image

UPDATE:  Get RAGING cellulitis (skin infection) from dipping foot in hot tub.  Deal with your sister’s “I-told-you-so’s.”  On antibiotics.  Feel even more sheepish.

Glamping

I love to camp, which is ironic considering my parents never took me camping.

My father actually thinks it’s a ridiculous past time.

Little does he know.

My first camping trip was with my friends Albert and Barry and my then BFF (now sister-in-law) Robin when I was in college.

I got busted for posing topless in the water, I remember.

In any case, I’ve sold my tent trailer Dolly so it’s time to pull out my super big Insta-tent Pete for UnSCruz.

The one thing I’ve never mastered with respect to camping is how to keep it cheap.  I know camping is SUPPOSED to be cheap, but somehow I always fall woefully short of it.

For instance, I have $567.89 worth of groceries in my Safeway online cart [the one thing you should know about me is that I don’t go grocery shopping myself if I can help it].

That’s for 3 – 4 people and includes a case of beer, 750 ml of single barrel whiskey, 750 ml of fine rum, 3.5 L of vodka, 3.5 L of gin, and a 3L box of red wine.

LOTSA BOOZE!

It also includes dinners of steak and potatoes and spaghetti with meatballs in a homemade pasts sauce.

I can honestly say I EAT BETTER CAMPING THAN I DO IN REAL LIFE.

It’s because I have all this time on my hands to plan things out and work on them.

And as if the food and drink isn’t enough, I’m planning a little surprise for my campmates:

A Bloody Mary bar with all the fixings!

But why stop there?

I figured out I could also make Aviator cocktails, Gin fizzes, Mimosas, French 75s, and Screwdrivers with just a few extra ingredients.

Have you heard of Amarena cherries?

OMG, they’re heavenly little spheres of happiness and make a delicious finish at the bottom of an Aviator cocktail!

Of course, all these cocktails require accessories:

  1. Measuring glasses
  2. Bar spoon
  3. Cocktail glasses (acrylic)
  4. Champagne flutes (acrylic)
  5. High ball glasses (acrylic)
  6. Plates and bowls to put the fixings in
  7. Tray for display purposes
  8. Stainless steel cocktail shaker
  9. Skewers
  10. Ice buckets

And OH SO MUCH MORE.

To the tune of $327.85 in my Amazon basket.

Of course I haven’t BOUGHT anything yet.

I’m waiting to see if my inner Martha Stewart/ Type A/ Overachiever settles down a little.

It also occurred to me that I could go to Goodwill to get all my accessories.

But that would require me to shop.  In a store.  In person.

And we all know I JUST DON’T DO THAT!

Camping at Stanislaus with my friends and my dog Mac (RIP sweet boy)

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