A new level of furious

Since the accident I have had to control my emotions, especially watching my temper. I tell myself that killing/maiming/beating the shit out of people won't help, no matter how much they deserve it. 'He needs killing!' may be a justifiable defense, but it's not a good idea.
But all that rage has to go somewhere, right?

I've always advised people to vote with their wallets. Don't like what a certain business is doing? Take your money elsewhere and tell your friends, (and why!)

Today's object of my wrath is Regal Cinemas. Like many other folks, I took my family to see the new Star Wars. Regular readers will note I have a checkered past with them. Half the time there have been problems with the captioning system. I'm not kidding. Every other movie I've gone to I've had to get my money back or given comp tickets. But what are they going to do, give me free passes for life? This will not do.

In the past I've experienced dead batteries, faulty wiring, improper synchronization of the craptions. (Wanna read the beginning of the movie at the climax? That's what I'm talking about.)
Today looked like more of the same, shoddy batteries,even though the manager insisted they were new. How new is open to interpretation.
After missing the first few minutes of the movie, the manager Fran Kaufold and I returned to the theater with a new headset. She had to go back and get a THIRD Pair.
But something was up with the replacement. Only the left side of the glasses worked. This translates to half a sentence. Would you enjoy a movie that they only said the first three or four words of dialogue? 
I'm past slamming my fist on the counter. Yelling isn't going to solve things. Informing the manager of her questionable ancestry doesn't fix the problem.
As I've alluded to in the title of the post: I've reached a scathing level of deadly calm. I thanked the manager for doing what she could and I would take it from that point. So where am I at in terms of emotional stability? I'm thankful I didn't have anything within reach that I could have used to break bones.
So, return home. Take a few minutes to calm down. Think about a solution. I keep coming back to take your money elsewhere. That changes me, it doesn't encourage them to change.
In the past I've complained at the ticket box office. That gets me free tickets.
I've written the corporate office. That got me a letter of apology and more tickets. I don't want free tickets. The problem needs to be fixed. My wish is to sit with my family and enjoy the same movie without interruptions. Together. That's not so hard, is it? I feel bad for those people who I disturb while getting out of my seat.
This has gone on long enough. After talking it over with my family we're going to take our business elsewhere. AMC offers close captioning. It's farther from us, but if that's what it takes... I'm also going to go to a couple of deaf monthly meetings and try to get a read on things. Perhaps organize something.

Christmas stories

My 7th grade Art teacher taught more than Art. The last day before Christmas break, Mr. Armand Mednick would gather the students around and tell us the stories of how his father smuggled him out of Belgium as a child concealed in a suitcase, or when his father burned his birth certificate in front of him, to hide his Jewish heritage from the SS. He told us tales of concentration camps and the people who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. He often wore long sleeves to cover up his serial number tattoo. I only recall seeing it once. He had to roll up his sleeves while we were working with clay on a pottery wheel. At the time I wasn't sure if he was ashamed or embarrassed about the numbers. He didn't like to talk about them. Looking back, I might theorize he didn't want to give them more weight or importance in his life. I would go so far as to say he treated them like a mole, something to be mostly ignored. At that young age I could understand what he endured, but the 'why' didn't fully sink in for a few years.
So when people talk about rounding up Muslims, deporting or even outright killing them, I'm reminded of that last time certain people were rounded up because of their race or religion.

Japanese interment camps. Concentration camps. Gas chambers.
Because that really worked out well the last time.

Here's a thought: Allowing fear to control your mouth and trigger finger only serves to incite more fear and violence. A self-fulfilling prophecy. You want to turn frightened people into terrorists? Continue on this destructive path and you will have more bombings and riots than you know what to do with.

There is a solution. Welcome these refugees. Treat them with compassion and they will respond in kind. Oh, but there are secret agents, terrorists in with the refugees! "They'll take our wimmun an our guuunnss!"
Just what I expect from an angry, scared fear monger. Get a grip on yourselves.
Now, are you listening? Let's say for a moment you're right. There is a Daesh terrorist (who's just as scared and prejudiced as you are.) ready to cause destruction.
Fortunately they are just as smart as the allegedly educated loudmouths over here in 'Murica.
Here's how they did it back in WWII. There was a problem of what to do with the captured Nazi soldiers in the closing days of the war. The answer was genius as it solved several problems. 
Problem: There was a man power shortage in the work force. 
Solution: Put them to work. Treat them fairly. Show the men a better way of providing a life. Many of the prisoners didn't want to go home after the war.
When anti-German sentiment was at an all time high, they took prisoners of war and turned them. Yep. More than a few went native. Don't believe me? Here's one story. Here's another. 
I encourage you to read those two links all the way to the end. There were rough patches, but in the end, the benefits outweighed the costs.
Now, you can keep on spouting the hate and war mongering, we all know where that leads, or you can choose to take the high road and show everyone what it means to be American. 
I'm not so naive to believe that there aren't any anti-American sentiments in any refugees. But I know the way to beat Daesh is to not play into their hands. They want a war. They have a death wish. Killing is easy, but it's also permanent. Once you start, you can't go back.
Dial that fear back and show people what true courage looks like. 

Count down

Two-thirds of my brood finished their finals yesterday. Musketeer number two felt she passed her calculus, but didn't ace it. This is good news because often times she underestimates things like that in order not to get her hopes up. When she is one of a handful of students who pass the exam, there's that little squeal of surprise followed by a sigh of relief.
I was dropping off a package to Fed Ex with my youngest when an epiphany occurred. Stop lights are actually the moments when we have time to recollect all the things in our scatterbox brains.
Daughter #1 is in college. Daughter #2 will be graduating this spring. That leaves #3 with only a few years of high school left. 
What I'm feeling is the first pangs of empty nest syndrome. Watching the kids grow up to spread their wings. I'm near the end of bringing them into adulthood.
Except it doesn't really end. It simply moves on to another stage of growth.
Enough of this retrospective bull.
Got your Christmas shopping done? I'm getting the hang of it finally. Cards went out the weekend after Thanksgiving, including the birthday cards in January. Our family has more than it's fair share of Capricorns for some reason.
Today I'm going to work on my last gallon of mead. There is filtering to be done. I'm up to 28 bottles of various flavors. When it comes time to bottle this last batch of blueberry, (some time in January) I'm sure it will be over 30. There's a tiny bit of sediment on the bottom of each bottle. Way less than before, it goes to show that I've a bit more refining to do. Which reminds me, I need to label these buggers before I forget what's in them.
With the coming of the New Year the wife and I have resolved to make big batches of the recipes that proved popular with the taste testers. I spend roughly 100 dollars per five gallons of mead on ingredients, mostly honey.
If the Apocalypse happens, (WW III, American Taliban, Skynet or zombies.) I'm sure my next career will be making libations for whoever is in charge... Except those robot overlords, I'm fairly certain they prefer 10W-30.
I'm fixing to hold another tasting event down town at the end of January. Learning from the last time, I'll try to get some cards printed up and see about getting the right people to show.
This is the year Centaur Meads gets off the ground. We won't be selling, but definitely laying the ground work and getting production started.

What is happening

Tonight the new Star Wars movie will premiere. We won't see it and I don't want to hear anyone tell me about it. My family will get around to it very soon.
Another thing crossed my desk: NASA is getting more money than they asked for.
You can go ahead and read the transcript but let me try and boil things down to the main points.
We're going to Mars. A goddamn manned mission to Mars. About freaking time. There was a time when I didn't think I would live to see humans step out into the solar system. A recurring theme in my life is, 'If you want something bad enough, you will find a way to make it happen.'
Europa is going to happen. Jupiter's moon, Europa, is an ice covered world with an ocean under it's surface. Wherever there is water, life usually follows. Congress stipulated that the Europa mission must have a lander and a way to drill through the ice. Challenge accepted.
In my ever vivid dreams when they lower a camera beneath the ice, one of several things might happen.
A shrimp-like creature will zoom past the lens.
A terrifying tentacle will strike out and rip the camera off the probe.
Or nothing will happen.
I sincerely doubt Europa's ocean is devoid of life.
I also doubt there is some Cthulu-type leviathan down there waiting to kill us. (I hope.)
It's more reasonable to expect small plankton and amoebas. Which would be a miracle in itself, but let's get there first. 
The Orion Spacecraft and the Space Launch System are now in full swing. 
Together with the private sector space agencies,  Space X, Boeing and Virgin, we can finally step out into the solar system.
Remember what I mentioned in an earlier post: whoever goes out into space will control the solar system. Not too long ago I thought the Chinese might beat us to the moon. Their goal is to put a base on the moon in the very near future. Remember: they're very good at five-year plans. Here's what they have planned for the near future.
We've all played Monopoly as kids. Think of it this way: If China sets up a base on the moon, it will control access from Earth to our neighboring planets. China is doing the equivalent of buying the St. Charles and St. James sections of the board. Sure, we can launch our rockets from Earth to the other planets, but it will be so much easier to do it from the Moon or one of the Liberation points.
Visual aid time:

Now I can't get that song out of my head

Liberation, or LaGrangian points (with apologies to ZZ top.) are areas in between two planetary bodies where gravitational forces cancel each other out. Theoretically a space station would have to exert very little energy to remain at, say... the point between the Earth and the moon. Both bodies would exert equal amounts of gravity, in effect balancing the space station between the two masses.
In science-fiction circles, L1 through L5 are considered optimal for a future space based rocket platform. There is also some solid science to back it up.
Now what if the Chinese decide to build a base on that small blue dot in the picture? They would control those points closest to them.
Don't think it could happen? Take a look at your history. Those countries that control the ports, controlled the flow of goods.
If the Chinese get to the moon before us and establish a good settlement, don't be surprised if they decide to rename the moon.
If that sounds far fetched, go ahead and Google 'New Amsterdam'. History is always written by the victors.

making the best of it

Like everyone else, I find myself running around trying to get stuff done. It seems there aren't enough hours in the day. This can cause a bit of tension, especially among loved ones. We're all feeling the holiday stress. The trick is to not take it out on those close to you, no matter how much they deserve it. I like to think that I dial it way down and try not to go full nuclear on people. My wife may snigger and point out how wrong I am for this assumption. That's part of her job description: pointing out when I'm  wrong and to keep me honest.
In all this holiday madness, I like to look for the silver lining. Our Christmas is going to look a little lean after all the little emergencies that cropped up. The bright side is I have a new door in the house. I'm thankful my brother-in-law dropped by to help us and offered his advice about installing it properly. My family is warm and safe because of him.
A friend's car broke down last night and I went out to help him fix it. We learned a bit about putting serpentine belts on, but for some reason we couldn't quite make it happen. I suspect the larger problem is we're not that bright despite figuring out how the tension wheel works. The belt always fell off when we got to the point of putting it on that last flywheel. I got them home safe and hope they were able to get it repaired. It could have been raining, thankfully all we had to deal with was the cold wind.
This week I'm helping clean a store on the far side of town. As near as I can figure it, Lowe's is having a grand re-opening of all it's San Antonio stores. We're going around and getting everything in tip-top shape. Tomorrow I have to be there at 6 AM. I haven't measured the distance... no wait, I can look it up. Be right back. Ah, just over 20 miles. The tricky part is going through the traffic. Sure that's not a problem before the sun comes up, but the way back is full of construction and rush hour. Where's the bright side in that? One girl on our crew is a full 54 miles from home two towns over. It made me momentarily appreciate the traffic.
I'll be going to bed early, despite the giggling from my daughters. I'll take what I can get.

A new door

This morning the family and I began taking the busted patio door out in preparation for installing a new door. Starting with this:

Photo taken between the first and second cup of coffee.

My crew, a family project

Here's what I learned:
Shop Vac's pick up safety glass pretty good.
There is no such thing as a straight line in construction.
Staples are regularly used to put in patio doors. 
They installed the old patio door backwards.

We're having bulk collection in our neighborhood on Monday, so putting a door frame out on the curb isn't that unusual.
When I made a run to the store for extra shims, the vultures were already picking through what I left out front. Keeping a smile on my face, I asked the picker/vulture/scavenger if he could move his car out of the way so I could leave. I do and don't have a problem with these people. On the one hand, I'm not going to use the stuff again. They're just recycling. The flip side is they're picking through my garbage like it was nothing. It personally grosses me out. There is a reason I threw it out,guys. 

Smile for the camera

This is one of those chain reaction projects. Notice the torn off siding. It's asbestos from the seventies. Now I know what you're thinking: That stuff will give you cancer, which is a partially correct answer. If it was pulverized into dust and got into my lungs, then we're talking the big C.
The only thing we disturbed is a bunch of spider egg sacks. Oh, and I found a mummified skink. Should of gotten a picture of that one. Now we'll have to replace the siding. Rebuilding the porch moved up a few notches on my 'To do' list. We should replace the windows while we're at it. At least the one near the porch. Slowly, but surely we are turning this house of straw into one of bricks.

This is so Santa can get those presents in.

Almost done

We had a little trouble putting the shims in, but eventually we got the doors to close properly. French doors secured to the studs in the wall. Door knob on and a door latch on the inactive door. We had to call it a night because we were losing what passed as daylight. Cloudy, drizzle plagued us all day. I was hoping my tools didn't short out while we worked.
Tomorrow I'll put the trim up and so some creative engineering with the plywood to protect the insulation. There will even be pictures, I promise.

Pictures!

Finally occurred to me to e-mail the pictures to myself. One smack to the forehead later, I began this post.

This one was from when we vacationed in Florida prior to Thanksgiving. We stayed at a house in Seaside, Florida, with cousins. To show my appreciation, I brought some bottles of mead to share. This is what the pineapple ginger looked like as the sun set over the bay.

There are no words

 I'm going to use that for a thumbnail when I start my Kickstarter to raise money for the meadery.

So yeah kids, Dad is going to talk about meads. Go back to reading your Twilight fan fiction. Shoo...

Saturday, before my patio door shattering, I was on the porch filtering and bottling the latest batches of mead.

We took the new pump through it's paces and it acquitted itself nicely. this was the first bottle to come out.

See through awesome

That's the pumpkin spice. Here are it's brothers. All told there are 11 bottles. Two of which are 1.5 liters and cold crashing in my fridge for the next 12 months.

Now taking suggestions for a name

Doing the math, this batch of pumpkin spice mead came in at 22% ABV. Taking a sip between filling bottles told me it was very good. A pumpkin and nutmeg taste with a kick. Smooth, crisp and easy to swallow. No metallic bite. Now imagine how well it will age in one year. Oh, yeah baby.

The next two were problematical. These two refused to clear despite correct readings. 

Don't let appearances fool you

The one on the right, the pear, weighs in at almost 19% (18.995, but who's counting?) the blueberry/pear came in at almost 8%. Still respectable, but this is the first single digit ABV I've hit. While the blueberry combo is sweet and goes down easy, the pear is a bit on the dry side with a little metallic bite to it. Typically that will smooth out during the aging. Don't ask for samples, these are going to sit for one year. So says the deaf mead maker. There is a pure blueberry one that I had to tinker with, so it's a few months behind the others. It took some research to find out what went wrong, next time I'll use a different method to introduce the fruit.

So what do I need from you guys? Why, to help me name them, of course!

something new

It's never boring around here.
While I was checking my e-mail and my youngest was watching TV, the back door spontaneously shattered. I shit you not.

I think a bug landed on it

I heard what sounded like a can of soda being opened. Followed by my little girl stating, 'I didn't do it.'
She was in my peripheral vision so I knew she was at least eight feet from the back door.
Time for a quick fix with what I have around me.

Eat your heart out McGyver.

 The wife returned from dropping our oldest off at work and immediately got on the phone with our insurance. They won't get back to us till Monday. I work faster than that and I'm deaf. <sigh> It looks like I'm going to get some plywood sheets and nail it up tomorrow. 
We were just talking about getting a new door, I didn't know it was going to be that soon.

Long time coming

I'm going to leave this right here. Notice it's from the Guardian, a British news agency. This is from it's online US edition. I have been trying to put into words about what has happened in Colorado Springs. I couldn't have put it better myself.
Here is the article. Of course the comments beneath are quickly full of Trolls because this is the land of big mouths and bigots.

The week off. Time to go to work

This is a situation that solves itself... Almost. I had to use my remaining vacation time before the end of the year. As it so happens, we are going to visit family the weekend before Thanksgiving. The conversation went something like this:
"So, who's going to be there?" I asked.
"My brother's family and some cousins," my wife replied. "I'm not sure who's all coming."
The number wasn't all that important. All I wanted to know was if I needed to make two or four pies. I can't do an odd number of pies.
"Just be sure to take the weekend before Thanksgiving off," she said.
What I heard was "Take the week before Thanksgiving off."
Oops.
It still works out. We'll be seeing family and having a good time. I simply get a few days off before the whole shebang starts. We also may be driving back on the day I have to go back to work. We'll see. The time off will be put to good use. I've been putting off a trip downtown and getting Centaur Meadery up and running. I'm pretty much at the point where I have to drum up the money for this venture. I have a few people that I've been introduced to and I know a few organizations that could help. It's time to go pay these people a call. One thing I know for sure, I do not want family to invest in this business venture. Mixing money and family is typically a recipe for disaster. I don't want to risk what I value (family) over a what I consider the root of all evil, money. Granted, it's a necessary evil, but I don't want relations strained over this, no matter how good a deal I think it is. A lot of this relies on me. I'm doing the work, I'm the one man production team. Win or lose, it's on me.
So I got the days off I needed plus a few more. I'll put them to good use and I had the vacation hours to spend anyway. I was going to end my year with a few hours of vacation time left over, but this way I get to use them all. It works out very nearly by itself. Now if I can get this business started so I didn't have to go back to Lowe's...
This seems to have become a mantra with me: 'My job is getting in the way of my life.'
That said, I'm going to keep on plugging along. This road has to lead somewhere. This isn't an exact science and my method of production is changing in small ways as I refine what I'm doing. Perhaps that analogy doesn't work. 
I have a wide assortment of tools at my disposal to make a great mead. I never use all of them. Each situation is different. One mead is refusing to clear. Batches that were started after the pear mead are clearing nicely. This one is cloudy and stuck, for lack of a better term. There is a learning curve. At times it's pretty straight forward. Other times, pretty steep. Hey, this is what I signed on for. The batch that's clearing up is throwing off Sulfur dioxide. (Don't worry, it's supposed to do that.) It's a little disconcerting when the airlock pops off from pressure buildup, but I've installed a pressure release airlock. Sulfur dioxide goes bye-bye, no fresh air gets in. For a while I was worried about bacterial growth, but all that gas being released is a good sign. It means it's working. Bacteria needs oxygen to survive, and the bacteria isn't getting any. Oh, cry me a river! All that means is I'm going to have a kick ass pumpkin spice mead next year.
A forum that I frequent suggested I switch containers every time the sediment on the bottom reaches 1/4 of an inch. I understand the reasoning behind such a move and I still might do it, but we're not there yet. Patience, young Jedi. 

Speaking of which, the new Star Wars movie is set to come out in a few weeks. Friends of mine have already bought their tickets online. What am I the last hold out in the city? The state? Perhaps I should turn in my geek card. I'm going to lose all nerd credential the more I delay seeing it. I plan on taking the family sometime in the first week it's open. I'm actually discussing holding a movie marathon with my daughters. We'll see all six in order before we see the seventh installment in theaters.

Yesterday several suicide bombers attacked places and events in Paris. One hundred and twenty or thirty seven, are dead, depending on who you're watching. Thousands are injured. Reports are still coming in. My guess is we won't know an exact figure for a few days. I'll tell you one thing: I'm not getting my information from any American news desk. When I want facts without commentary, I go to the BBC for factual and truthful reporting. That says a lot in how bad it's gotten over here. I can't trust CNN, the New York Times and certainly not Fox.
With the BBC I get stories and world events that matter. I don't give a shit about Trump or the Kardashians. Who cares?
It only took a matter of hours before an ammosexual nutjob put his spin on it. 'That wouldn't of happened if there were a couple of concealed carry good guys with guns in that crowded theater.'

Ah, no.
Several things wrong with that line of thinking. First off: they were suicide bombers. The took pains to look like everybody else. They are not going to announce themselves. That good guy with a gun is going to have one warning: when the person next to him explodes in a blinding flash of C-4 and nitroglycerin, so no warning whatsoever.
Fort Hood is a military base full of soldiers. Both times! A shooting occurred in 2014 as well as the one in 2009.
Virginia tech has a police force with trained officers.
In fact, the shooting at Roseburg in the Umpqua Community college had a good guy with a gun. A person with a concealed carry license, and he didn't fire.
Why didn't he shoot? He didn't know where the shots came from. He knew the police were on their way and didn't want them to think he was the bad guy. Instead, he got the people he was with to safety. 
That is my definition of a responsible gun owner. Knowing when NOT to shoot your weapon.
I've already shared my opinion on gun control and responsible gun ownership. If a person dares to come into my house uninvited, breathing privileges will be revoked.
Norwegians use the word 'Texas' as slang to mean 'crazy'.  I'm just going to leave that there. I tried to work myself up to being insulted, but it's true. I'm a bit embarrassed actually. Every time I see some 40 year old virgin compensating for his small penis by carrying an SMG into a restaurant, I'm ashamed and embarrassed for all Texans. I expected better from Governor Abbott, he really let all Texans down.

The season upon us

A friend at my wife's work asked if we could make her one of my pecan pies for Thanksgiving. 'Those are so good, I'll pay you.' Seeing as we will be out of town visiting family, it would be prudent to make four pies. Three to take with us and one for our friend. 

Technically all my meads are on the secondary stage of brewing. I had to start one over after it got stuck. But all the fruit has been strained out and what remains is clearing up. I'll be watching them through the holidays. I still haven't gotten around to the phone store, so no pictures, sorry.

Instead I'll share the secret to my culinary success: Alton Brown. One of my favorite celebrity chefs. He has taught the humble geeks of the world to cook, or as I like to call it; better eating through science!

Without further ado, I bring you the spicy pecan bourbon pie. Read the whole page please. You can't simply start at the beginning and follow the recipe blindly. First, you have to make the spicy pecans, which involves toasting them and coating them with a sugary spicy glaze. When you're done with making them, start on the crust while the pecans cool down. Now the dough for the crust has to cool as well. You would know that if you read the whole recipe. Then you have to make the filling. Once that is done, set it aside and return to the crust. You'll be combining the pecans and filling afterwards too.

It's a little like playing with Legos. You have to build one thing up to a point, start on another thing up to a certain level, then combine it all to make your masterpiece.

Even then you have to tweak it. For instance, my oven doesn't deliver the same performance as Mr. Brown's. I leave the pie in the oven longer than the 20 minutes he specifies at the end. Making sure my pie is fully set, I then remove it. The results are immediately apparent. It behaves like a pie, and not eggs over easy. The wife and I have an agreement: I grill the turkey out on the smoker while she prepares the sides and trimmings. We go all out and brine the turkey the night before. I feed the smoker chips and charcoal as if it were candy. There is really a challenge in keeping the whole setup a certain temperature for the duration of cooking the bird.

And we're off

Last night we went to a friend's house for a Halloween party. A few trick or treaters came by, but mostly it was a teenager costume party and the adults hanging around the kitchen. We got to socialize and gossip. All things considered, it was a decent gathering and it was mainly for the kids.
My Iphone is having a hard time recharging. that means I can't upload pictures of the party to this computer. I'm going to have to drop by the Sprint store later to see if they can fix it. Allegedly I'm good with words so I'll describe what went down last night.
Our hosts greeted us dressed as Wonder Woman and the Lone Ranger. That was cute and knowing our friends as we do, the choice of costumes were appropriate. Inside, the kids were dressed as ninjas, pirates, vampires and there was a Superman/Lois Lane duo. There was also a girl dressed in a leopard spotted dress, but I couldn't figure out if she was a cave girl or jungle girl. Flintstones or Sheena of the jungle? Didn't ask/ wasn't important. Oh yeah, and the young girl in a Spiderman dress. I called her Spider Gwen and she laughed, but I'm not sure she got the reference. My oldest saw a You Tube video of a model using fake nails as teeth, liquid latex and makeup to give herself a toothy maw that spread almost to her ears. It looked cool and a few people flinched with a gross out factor of 'Eww!' I think that was her intent and my eldest child succeeded in that respect. Reminded me of a lamprey... Just a little bit. 
"Dad, do you want horns?" my child asked while waving a small package of devil horns. It only took me a second to consider.
"Why not?" I said.
 A quick dab of makeup and I was ready to start quoting lines from Damn Yankees. I put a picture up on Facebook along with the obligatory Rolling Stones quote. A few of my friends responded with other lines from the same song. Ha! I'm getting old, but it's so much fun.
Middle child spent the previous night over at a friends house. She came home, turned off the lights and crashed on the couch. She didn't even open an eye when we came home and crashed about the house. Poor kid was totally conked out.
The wife donned her medieval dress for the occasion. I would of helped her put on the corset if she asked, but I couldn't decide if she thought it was worth the trouble or not. It was one of those no-win questions, so I stayed silent.

The majority of the day was spent getting the mead racked to new containers. Again, no pictures. Figured out what was wrong with the blueberry and it is now bubbling happily in the corner. The blueberry/pear combo is sort of bubbling along slowly and I'm content to just let it go until things stop or the fruit drops to the bottom of the jar. The batch of pear got transferred a week ago. Now we wait for it to clear up. That can take anywhere between two and six months. The big job was the pumpkin spice mead. From the outside it looks nearly the same color as the pear sitting next to it. Good thing I take notes on which is which. It's the recurring theme in my life: hurry up and wait. A lot of work scrubbing and washing. The wife was a big help filtering as I siphoned. The next investment we need to purchase is a pump/filter combo. It took several hours and I couldn't of done it without her. It was one of those 'Work harder or work smarter' things. Until that piece of equipment comes around we're doing it the hard way: by hand.
Another big chunk of time consumed goes to research. As I type this I'm looking at a recipe I printed up for a winter mead that caught my eye. It's not too complicated and I see where I can make a few changes to bump it up to a big batch. Apples, cranberries, cloves and cinnamon. Right now there are three flavors in the queue for me to make. We need more traditional... We need to make a lot more Serrano... Don't forget the orange! 
"Oh, make some more of that." is what I hear most often. I like and appreciate those comments, I really do, but I've been putting most of my energy into making this a legit business, not just a hobby.
Several of the recipes call for the honey to be boiled. I have no problem with that. Other methods don't involve heating the honey up, but there is an extra step later on down the line when refining the mead comes into play. There is no one set path to making this drink. Most of my stock of meads have their honey boiled in the prep stages, but that's just my preference. I suppose my next batch wouldn't have to be boiled or skimmed. It wouldn't effect the taste and ultimately that's what I'm after: taste.
   

What happened?

Sorry for the lack of updates, did I mention that October was a busy month for me? Perhaps I can bang this out while waiting for the paint to dry on my daughter's Halloween costume. She's going as an ice cube and one of her friends is going as a penguin. I'll take pictures.
Today is the third or fourth day of rain here in central Texas. We caught the edge of Hurricane Patricia and consider ourselves lucky. We're still looking at the news feeds to see how bad the damage was. If the rains continue, things will be problematic. Mudslides, flash floods. The power has gone off a few times, but so far nothing more annoying then resetting all the clocks. As I said, lucky.

My daughter is going to experience a not so pleasant right of passage tomorrow. A friend of hers died in an automobile accident last week and the funeral services are tomorrow. We all feel the loss for the Wood family. Through tear stained eyes I've watched my daughter go through the stages of grief in private this week. As parents we can comfort and offer support, but it in no way diminishes the loss that occurred.
I'm supposed to be good with words and perhaps offer some consolation to those close to Katrina, but it seems that anything I say would fall short. Her star was snuffed out before she had a chance to shine. There was no malice, no ill-intent. Three people lost their lives last Saturday. Wrong place, wrong time. The only thought I return to was one written by Christopher Reeve in his book Still Me, "Accidents happen for no reason."
Knowing what I know as an adult, a parent, lives can be taken in an instant. It shouldn't have to happen to children, but sadly it does. When my mom dropped me off for school, she always ended our conversations with, 'I love you'. At the time I thought she was trying to reaffirm herself. After all, I was young, immortal and bulletproof. Why would I need to hear those words?
Time has a way of playing some pretty cruel jokes on us foolish mortals. Now I say the same three words to my kids as I drop them off for school. Buried deep in my subconscious fears, I hope those are not the last words I will speak to my children.  

I can't complain but sometimes I still do

This week was hectic, but not pull out your hair insane. We're gearing up for Christmas. The way this works is that I'm doing double workloads from now until about, oh say, Black Friday. Two appliance trucks, double the regular truckloads. Three or four pallets of paint normally get delivered? Try eight on for size.
One more reason to get on with my life.
I try and not think of the amount of merchandise, that line of thinking paralyzes. Instead I break it down into things I can handle.
Some Jehovah's witnesses paid me a visit while I was busy scanning things in. Honestly, don't they have some one else to bother? I'm trying to work here. It was pretty awkward and uncomfortable. Whenever they whipped out their Jesus tablets, I changed the subject. I walked them to the door and they gave me a CD of an ASL bible. Just what I need, a coaster for my coffee mug.
My understanding is Jehovah's witnesses MUST go out and spread the word. Here's an observation: If you are trying to brainwash convert people, you are really trying to convince yourself. I've heard the arguments and I'm convinced it's a cult, not an actual religion. Your status in the church is dependent on how much money you donate. All this talk about Levels in the 'church'... It's one big airplane scheme! Don't worry, I hold the same disdain for those batshit insane Scientologists. (Started by a sci-fi writer no less!) Google Squirrel Busters if you want to see some crazy.
If you get some deeper meaning out of it, fine. Keep it to yourself. Wave it in my face and we are going to have a problem. My moral compass is fine and I don't need any version of a book written two thousand years ago to tell me right from wrong.

As if I wasn't busy enough

October is the busiest time of the year if you are a band parent. Marching contests. Friday night football games. We are 0-5 so far. Not very promising. I'm considering suggesting the marching band and starting lineup change places. Anything would be better.
The wife and I went to Seguin, about thirty miles away from San Antonio. There we spent time at Texas Mead Works. Primarily we discussed starting a business of producing mead.
The informal tastings I've held, friends and neighbors whom I've shared with have been giving me great feedback. Believe it or not, I think I'm getting a following. People are asking me when the next batch is out and what am I making now. That's been a running battle because I want to please people and I want my mead to be the best it can be.
What I discovered was I need to let my product age more. Patience was never my thing. I thought I was being good by letting it age a year. Now a guy who makes mead the way I like to tells me to double that. Age it two years. On the plus side, he likes my Serrano pepper mead.
We crunched the numbers and I'm writing up a detailed business plan to create a stand alone meadery, not part of a winery or brewery. What's funny is that we may have to improve the house before sweet smells start coming out of the garage. The wiring would have to support the equipment and machinery needed. Looks like I'd gut the garage and rebuild it from the ground up. A water line with filtration system. Insulation for temperature control. Air conditioning at the very least. The meadery tour I took had a walk in refrigerator. Sounds like I would almost be better off finding a warehouse to rent. Well, I haven't discounted it. We're looking into business loans. The first one I ran into they said up front the interest rate would be 9%. That's more than my house. Thank you, No.
So let's assume I get a large stainless steel cooker and two-100 gallon fermenting vats into my garage. (There's also a bottling machine, filtration system and label maker, but lets not get ahead of ourselves.)
One thought I had was to get a large shed in the backyard for bottling and storage. I'd also run my test batches out there. Sorry to say, but this 'hobby' is taking over the house. Time for it to move out on it's own. If you drew a triangle from Austin to San Antonio and Houston, there are four meaderies in that area. A few more meaderies exist up near Dallas, but that's not too important to this story. Texas Mead Works grew out of Blue lotus winery. Run by Mike and Melissa Poole, they make mead the way I make it, except on a much larger scale. They're good people and I hope to get to know them better. They are an inspiration to me.
Then there are the other fine mead makers. Enchanted Manor is also a winery that makes the mead for the Texas Renaissance Festival. Rohan Meadery is a winery, apiary, and working farm. I'm itching to go out there one weekend.
Then there is Griffin Meadery out in Willis, Texas, just north of Houston.
I'm sensing a theme here. Several names of what to call ourselves have been bandied about. The one we are leaning towards is Centaur Meads or Centaur Meadery. 

The American Mead Makers Association first annual report states that in 2012 sale of mead was $48,624. In 2013 sales jumped to 112,000. That's a 130% increase!
The 2015 report states there are 236 wineries that make at least one mead. Stand alone meaderies number around 150. The reporting is a little spotty because there are around 42 meaderies in development. I'd like to imagine I'm in that number, but I doubt anyone knows we exist yet. Sales for 2014 increased by 42% which is still pretty impressive and they had a lot more data to work with.
There are finer points to work on. Legislative definitions of what we do and produce. Carbonated/non-carbonated, single digit alcohol levels vs. double digit ABV. 
Once you get the basics down, you can make mead taste like nearly anything. There is a trend among craft brewers to use hops in the cooking process. This makes the mead taste like an IPA. Add to the predilection of craft breweries kegging and carbonating their mead, well, it tastes like very expensive beer. If I want beer, I'll buy or make a beer.
Centaur Meadery will make mead that looks like wine, but tastes infinitely better and about the same ABV as wine.
In my business plan I referred to myself as the Willi Wonka of meads. That's not an empty boast. Sweet, spicy, tart or tangy and anything in between. I suppose I could do sour too, but I'm going to make what tastes good. My first professional batch will be a traditional mead so as not to scare folks off.

A day off from my weekend off?

So Friday I had about a dozen or so people try my mead and I got great feedback. Saturday I made three test batches of pear, blueberry, and pear/blueberry combo mead.

First two

There was a slight hitch with the third. My first mead related yeast eruption.
When making beer, the first 24 hours (12 actually) are the worst. Explosion seems like too powerful a word. It goes off like a baking soda volcano. Several times I've gotten angry texts from my wife about the mess my hobby is making and how she has to clean it up.

You are so sleeping on the couch tonight

This wasn't as bad and it's a good thing I like the smell of blueberries.

Not as bad as it looks

It was shortly after that the wife discovered her windshield had been broken.
It turns out the kid across the street was playing with his friends, a football got thrown, someone dove for the catch. Her car was there to break his fall. The fact that he didn't come to us right away when it happened is something his parents will surely drill into him. I spoke to the mom this morning and asked her if she or her son had seen anything yesterday. Not thirty minutes later, mom is bringing her son over by his arm. "My son has something to tell you." He apologized profusely.

Ouch

This is what insurance is for and luckily they will be out on Monday to replace it. We won't be out of pocket, so I can afford to be forgiving.
I ended the conversation with something like; "Part of being a man is owning up to your responsibilities, even when it's an accident. Another part of being a man is recognizing it as an accident and forgiving the person who wronged you."
If I'm any judge of character, the Dad across the street is going to have a heart-to-heart with his son. There might be a grounding involved for not coming forward, but that's not up to me. I consider this resolved and I'm sure it won't happen again.

Back to bottle cleaning duty. The less glamorous side of home brewing. Over 70 wine bottles of various shapes and colors are now lining my garage shelves. Boy it's nice when friends come through like that.

Should of gone with a panoramic shot

I still had to bottle my Oktoberfest beer. Clean. Sterilize. Boil. Seal with a bottle cap. And all before losing the light. Did I mention I do most of this outdoors?
Cars with their headlights on were driving by as I busily cleaned the buckets and brew equipment. No photo of that, sorry. I was a bit busy.
Hungry, tired, sore, and tomorrow I get to go to my Clark Kent job before sunrise! 
Right now I don't know if I'm going to stay up for the lunar eclipse. I'll try but no promises.

Expectation exceeding hopes

That's just a working title post until I can sort things out in my head. It may make it to the end when I hit the publish key, I dunno. There is an office down town for entrepreneurs and start up companies called Geekdom. Tonight they hosted a board game night where nerds of all flavors can get together and have a bit of fun. Make friends, learn a new game, and have a few laughs. A good time is had by all.
There's also a happy sort of serious going on. This is an excellent way to break the ice with techies and people from all walks of life. Fantastic networking possibilities. No one is going to blow your horn for you. (That came out bad... Let me try again.) The best way to promote your business is to give yourself some visibility in some way. 'Oh, I didn't know you did this!' and, 'Did you make this yourself?'
In the back of my mind, I thought they'd stop me from bringing my mead in and setting up an informal tasting. This was one of those times I was happy to be wrong.
Of the three bottles I brought, I didn't think I'd have many takers on the Serrano pepper mead. Another thing I was happy to be mistaken about. They nearly polished it off.
As they listened to my spiel about what mead was and all the talking points, the phrase, 'I'd buy this.', was heard more than once. More importantly, I heard, 'You have to talk to this guy...'
Yes, we exchanged cards and numbers. One girl asked me to pose for a picture with my mead bottles. I'll take that one at face value. More importantly we tried to set up a meeting between me and a few people who help others set up businesses. It looks legit and they seemed genuinely interested in helping me get started. The one question that comes to mind is this: Is this the best way to go about starting a business? I have friends who own businesses. One in particular owns two liquor stores, so you might say our interests might align in some respect. As loathe as I am to admit it, I most certainly qualify as disabled and there are ways for disabled business owners to get started. I'm going to have to look that one up. I've only heard rumors and I'd need some hard facts behind it before I cross that bridge.
Came across this article a week ago about the growth in the mead and craft brew business. Definitely worth a read.
Well, it's late and I have to get an early start tomorrow. I've three test batches to start. For those eagerly awaiting friends, these won't be ready until spring, March or April at least. After tonight I've moved two recipes up to the five gallon status. I've had to learn patience in order to do this, so can you guys who want to be beta testers. Wanna know the worst part? I had another idea for a recipe while I was networking with these folks.

One of the good secrets

Here is another review of deaf friendly places here in San Antonio. Like the name suggests, The Magnolia Pancake Haus serves breakfast and brunch. The Germanic spelling of the word house... I don't know what is up with that. Perhaps it is the European cooking style of the quiche or the eggs Benedict. Perhaps it's a nod to the decor of the restaurant. In any case, the food is awesome. There isn't a bad thing on the menu. Yelp has some good things to say. There is no wrong choice. When I want to impress someone from out of town, we take them here. Now with a place this good, there is a downside: the wait to get in. It fills up fast. My wife had to drop off her car at the dealership for a repair. Being 8:15 on a Saturday and the restaurant was only a few miles away, we took a chance we could get a seat in a decent time. We did, only 10 minutes, but the line sure got long fast. By 8:45 the wait was almost an hour long. This is one of those places you want to get ready to visit the night before. With that in mind, this is where you want to go. Load up Google map the night before.
Now for my deaf friends: take off your hearing aids. With this many people, there is a lot of noise to deal with. There is a bit of elbow room to sign and the booths are big enough that no one is blocked in. Plus the place has these big windows in front so it's well illuminated. The staff is friendly enough, but you will have to point to the menu and perhaps get a little help from a hearing person. Would you like hash browns? Yes. 
Coffee? Hell, yes!
I can best describe the place as a country tea room. Lots of knick-knacks on the walls in a pleasant tasteful way. It is downright relaxing and a great way to start your day.
Knowing that they have a good thing going, they have an app that gives you the wait time and lets you know when your table is ready called Nowait app. You can type in the restaurant and the rest is history. One less thing to worry about. 
On my Yelp review of the place I made an observation and I'll share it here. I've never understood why people take pictures of their food until I ate at the pancake haus. The meals are works of art. In fact, I was tempted to pull out my iPhone and snap a picture before digging in to my omelet. I can now tell my nieces and nephews I did indeed have green eggs and ham, and I loved it!

Neglecting a promise

In the interest of changing things up, I promised to write about Deaf friendly businesses in my town. So if you don't live in San Antonio or are not hearing impaired, this might not be relevant to you.
The Tip Top Cafe first came to my attention when it was featured in Diners, Drive-ins and Dives on the Food Network. The original restaurant is at 2814 Fredericksburg rd. on the west side of San Antonio. Two or three times I've eaten there I have not been disappointed. It has been described as comfort food or going to your grandmothers house. My only criticism of the place is that it is too small a building to handle such a loyal following of patrons. So it was with great joy when I discovered a second location was opening on my side of town and near my neighborhood! The second location is at 13835 Nacogdoches rd. on the east side of San Antonio.
It is to be expected that there are things to be ironed out when a new place opens. Waiting for the reviews and talking to friends I got a good measure of where the restaurant stood. After all, the new place had big shoes to fill compared to the parent restaurant. I'm trying to be fair here. My visit was at 6:00 on a Friday. I found a seat at one of the widest counters I've encountered. Reaching across it would be hard, at a guess it would be easily four feet.
At least 22 tables and nearly all full. I'd just beaten the dinner rush.
The menu is here. The Yelp reviews are here. The fare is average. If I had two of the same dishes side by side, one from the original and the other from the new place, the first entree would stand out more. Simply put: the new place is a pale reflection of the original restaurant. Service was prompt and friendly. (Thanks Emilee!) The prices are fair, but the kitchen needs to step up it's game if it is going to be worthy of the name of it's predecessor. A tall order indeed.
But here is where it's different in a positive way. Wide open space with plenty of elbow room and lines of sight. This is important for communicating in ASL. Two big screen TVs that the staff was more than happy to put captions on for me. It did take them a bit to figure out how, but they got it done after a few tries. (Thanks Josh!) The whole dining area is well lit and bright. On the whole, the place was noisy and I had to turn my implant way down in order not to have some aspirin with my dessert. My recommendation is to turn off your hearing aids and implants. Less headache and more enjoyment that way.
There is one way the new place is on par with the original. Pies baked on the premises. Mile high meringue! The pecan pie I had for dessert was tasty, light and not overly sweet. You know how some pies can give you cavities by looking at it? Not so in this case. I will be back to try a new pie for dessert. Spot on Tip Top!
I love my chicken fried steak and gravy, so they better be ready. I found the service very good and I felt comfortable being there. The staff was kind and helpful when I ordered my meal. A good friendly server staff can cover many overall shortcomings in a restaurant, such is the case here. The deaf man says give 'em both a try and see what I'm talking about.

Taking advantage

Like the rest of the world, I found out about Ahmed Mohamad, the 14 year old boy who built a clock, brought it to school to show his teacher and got arrested for it.
Down at the bottom of that article from the Dallas Morning News is a picture of his homemade clock. The picture is a little fuzzy but I can see a digital display, a circuit board, some hand soldered wires, a small transformer and underneath the mesh at the bottom of the case appears to be a metallic power supply. I'm also seeing a nine volt battery connector and an AC plug. Absolutely nothing more dangerous than a science kit.
The principle called the cops and arrested the kid. Want to see the letter the school wrote about the incident?
Simply put: I'm stunned. I remember taking phones apart and trying (badly) to fix them when I was his age. I remember getting a 500 in 1 electronic science kit for Christmas when I was a kid. Looking back I realize I could have been arrested to taking my kit to school for show and tell.
This whole thing doesn't pass the smell test.
He is a fucking kid! The principal saw a brown kid with 'a suspicious package'. Get a clue! Those three words are trying to cover your prejudice and ignorance, and they're doing a crappy job of it. In reading a couple of articles there was mention of the clock looking like a bomb from the movies. Uh, right. I thought I had an active imagination.
Right away other agencies stepped in to counter this craptastic episode. Offers began pouring in on Ahmed's brush with the law. Here's what has been offered to this boy:

Makes me want to build a clock

While these people may have their own agenda for offering all this stuff, I see the larger picture.

Here is an intelligent kid who is curious about the way things work in the world. The principal of MacArthur high school in Irving, Texas was doing a knee jerk reaction. I'm curious why the police didn't refuse to arrest the kid. Perhaps the principle was insisting on pressing charges. They all were reacting out of fear.

Here's the larger picture I mentioned:

The general population is tired of living in fear. Not that there is nothing to be afraid of, but allowing fear and uncertainty to control your life is no life at all.

Why did they inter Japanese Americans during World War II? Fear and ignorance.

In today's world replace the word Muslim with Japanese. Every day I see some blowhard with a microphone calling for all Muslims to be rounded up and/or executed.

Fear is a very powerful thing and these idiots are reacting out of hate and ignorance.

This is a big thing that took me a while to realize: I don't do fear.

While I detest Nazis, I don't go blaming Germans.

For the Navy Seal who double tapped Osama bin Laden, good shot soldier! But I have no hatred in my heart for my friends of different faiths. Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Hindu.

This is just my two cents, but if you embrace friendship with people who live differently, aren't you making the world a better place? If you can't bring yourself to call someone with different color skin friend, can you at least try to respect them?  

Starting to Fall

This weekend wasn't as blistering as the ones before it. The grass is merely dead and not kindling waiting for a match. Last night it got down to the mid sixties. It seems we turned a corner here in mid-Texas. We equally enjoy and complain about the heat. I know, that seems like a contradiction. Now is the time to plant a fall garden here in what is generally considered the Hill Country. It took me a while to figure that out. July and August is the don't you dare plant anything months. This is just a reminder for me to purchase some dirt. I think I figured out how to get the lawn to come back. Now I need the materials to do it. Throwing money at a problem to make it go away. Seems like the thing to do.
I'm thinking of putting my herb garden back in order. About the only thing that survived was the rosemary bush. We had some truly massive rainstorms over the course of the summer and my oregano took a beating. I want to say it's 85-90% dead, but trying to make a comeback. I like to remain hopeful.
We kissed our cable goodbye. AT&T raised their prices again after promising us they wouldn't. This is called voting with your wallet and you'd be surprised at how effective it is. This is exactly why I love it when there are cable and phone companies trying to compete for my hard earned dollars. If a company can't give me what I want or doesn't do as they promised, I take my business elsewhere. We've entered a new phase here in my household. No Time Warner. No land lines, We're streaming our favorite programming over the internet and video on demand services such as Netflix and Hulu. There are drawbacks to be sure. Not all of my favorite things are available, for example, the TV series Firefly.
I enjoyed watching all the episodes on Netflix. (Another black mark against Fox for cancelling a great show.) But where was that movie, Serenity? That was supposed to tie up some loose ends from the show before it was cut by the evil bean counters at Fox. Who did Joss Whedon piss off over there in Rupert Murdoch land? The movie isn't on Netflix or Hulu and it was released ten years ago! I smell contract dispute, that or someone is being pissy.
So I was having a conversation with my daughters and we were talking about the Beatles. I wanted to bring up Yellow Submarine on Netflix, but to no avail. Has Paul McCartney not given permission for it to be shown? I've noticed B movies and a lot of straight to video stuff is on Netflix. Stuff that was released a year ago, not so much.
This gives me the opportunity to refocus my time and energy, at least that's the way I'm looking at it.
In a few days I'll be taking the wife to the mead fest and play in that sandbox for a bit. When company comes in October, I want to have the chance to show the stuff I made.

Mad brew

My kids don't like when I talk about my home brewing hobby. I can see their side of it, (through the rolling teenager eyes of course.) When I bought tickets to go to a local mead fest, my daughter pointed out; 'People go there to get drunk.'
Well... yes and no. The same could be said for any popular dance club on a Saturday night.
The wife and I are going to see what other home brewers are doing. We're going to have a few tastes and network with people who are doing what we are considering going into.
Let me start with a preface: We are not quitting our day jobs. I like eating and having a roof over my head. That said, our jobs are not enough. They've kept the lights on, and we're not going hungry for the most part, but we can't go on living like this. A long time ago we both realized that we are one accident away from ruin. There's a mad scramble when a car breaks down, but if I were to be hospitalized for a hernia, things would get pretty dire.
This is for my family. 
Wouldn't it be nice to say, 'Put it on the credit card.' rather than count out pennies and dimes at the supermarket? Wouldn't it be nice to have a credit card?
I'm at the point where I need to enter a contest or county fair with what I'm making. Now that I've gotten the hang of it, I can unequivocally say what I make doesn't suck.

This is the dangerous one

 When I made this, I thought three Serrano peppers might not be enough. Oh, how wrong I was.
You smell the capsaicin oil as you tip the glass back, but your taste buds tell you this is a sweet drink. Then a tiny scorpion will proceed to dance on your tongue for twenty or thirty seconds.
Nailed it.


So many friends asked about this next one I think I'll be making this regularly. My prickly pear mead, Lady Jane's time out.

A new flavor of awesome

Yes, I named this with a nod to my stepmom, whom I think the world of. It started off as a joke, but the more popular it got, the more the name made perfect sense.
As of this writing I have a handful of friends who are waiting in line for me to declare this batch is ready. The first time brewing this I gave away over sixteen to eighteen bottles. The others became wedding gifts, white elephant presents at Christmas parties and so forth.

The next one caught my eye when I read about it in an online forum. There were no recipes or they varied so much I had to use my best judgement and I think I came fairly close to what I wanted.

Not a typo

This is a pineapple ginger mead. After a lot of thinking, this might be best described as a dessert beverage. I'm tempted to describe it as candy sweet.
My daughter who does the teen eye roll over her dad's weird hobbies actually came up with the name for this one.

But there is a bigger purpose. I want to do more for my family. 
A long time ago I thought I could use my natural physical abilities to earn a living. What I learned was everyone has a number. No matter how good you are, no matter how often you perform a feat/trick/routine, there will be a time where it all goes wrong. If we're lucky, we live through it.
So now I have the ability to make things people like and it's not nearly so death defying.
After perfecting the recipes, my next step will be to enter a contest or two, get some exposure. In mingling with the home brew crowd, I learned they are all about sharing ideas and promoting the hobby. No trade secrets, no copyrights per se. It's more of an artistic endeavor. Fortunately it's one that can translate to a capitalistic venture as well. 
The wife came up with the name B&C meadery. Easy enough to change in the computer when a batch of beer comes out to B&C brewery. Beer is easy, mead presents it's own challenges. Right now the operation is very small. Looking over to the corner I have approximately forty bottles corked and aging on the rack. The rack is overflowing and I'll be building another winerack in the near future. I sense a weekend project coming up.
Saturday I invited a few friends over for an informal tasting of my latest creations. This is not simply an opportunity to show off. I'm recruiting. That sounds bad when I put it out like that. There is a meme that pops up online every so often and it goes like this:

'If you want to sail the ocean, do not hire woodworkers to build your craft. Instead, teach them the love and longing of the sea.'

A few of these friends have abilities. A few of these friends have contacts. Every one of them knows things I don't.
While doing this out of my garage has convenient access to the tools I need, I require a more structured work area. I'm going to rebuild my porch while letting my brother-in-law know if he can locate a shed for my backyard. Temperature control is critical for this to work and I'll have to run a water line out to said insulated, bee proof building. Making mead attracts bees, go figure.

I'm imagining a building in the future. It looks like a country barn from the outside, but inside there is a gift shop and more than a few tables both inside and on the enclosed porch. A small delicatessen/tea room style restaurant with snack foods to compliment the honey wine I produce on the premises. Who knows? I might have to hire a beekeeper. Right now I get the honey from a local beekeeper. I want to keep things local. The standing offer with my friends is bring me your empty wine bottles and receive a bottle of mead in return. We've made a deal recently for a healthy supply of bottles. Barter makes the world go round.
This is where it starts and things will begin slow, but progress will be made.