Wednesday, April 22, 2009

I'm Not a Doctor, But I Do Drink Beer.

I'm recovering from one virus while watching another, more powerful one take root.

Back from a busy trip to Missouri. Wedding preparations and celebrations. Working hard, playing hard, and trying to ignore a combined fit of seasonal allergies and acute viral rhinopharyngitis. The much-delayed and re-routed flight home (why even bother having an airport in Chicago, if it never works?) didn't help matters any. However, the well-traveled bottle of homemade smoked porter I had last night helped quite a bit. Well, it was leaking a little. Had to drink, didn't I?

These trips get beerier and beerier as we sow the seeds of serious suds throughout our family. My dad looked on while my brother and I brewed, working on plans for a small home brewing installation in the shop he's building. Mom is nearly finished with her world beer tour. My sister and her husband are hooked on Cantillon. My mother-in-law is now addicted to Rochefort. My father-in-law brewed 30 gallons of zesty lager, all-grain and all by his lonesome, to serve guests at his daughter's wedding events.* All of the above were habitual drinkers of either Miller Lite or Bud Lite not long ago.

Full flavor is viral because it speaks of a full life. We all want that. Much like the common cold, there's little chance of finding a cure anytime soon.

*Pictured above in the capable hands of pals Vickie and Meredith. Gorgeous, no? And the girls ain't bad looking neither.


  1. Excellent job on getting the whole family on to decent beer. And yes they look fabulous, the girls as well as the beer.

  2. And the girls ain't bad looking neither. LOL!

  3. You did it! You've simply converted them. Hurray!