Kegs And Mates

Last night I tried Bitburger for the first time. It was a lovely dry little drop. Quite hoppy and flavoursome. The reason I tried it was because our local bottleshop is having a competition to win a BeerMate but you have to buy Bitburger or Heineken to enter.

Aha! What’s a BeerMate I hear you ask? I know you’re probably thinking that you already have several BeerMates chilling nicely in the back of your fridge but this BeerMate is different…

We’ve always fantasised about having our beer on tap and enjoying a freshly poured 10 oz each evening. The thought of it makes me tingle. But the logistics are frightening. I can see why pubs are still operational because it would take an act of military precision to install a beer tap in the standard kitchen and keeping the keg cold creates a problem that would fry the brain of a quantum physicist.

Well, ok it IS possible but so much trouble that no respectable beer drinker could be bothered.

So the Sunbeam BeerMate is the answer to the age old problem of how to get a fresh icy cold beer poured straight from the keg in you own kitchen without having to turn your house into a pub and employ bar staff. It’s ingenious. And, in our society of the gadget-guzzling-consumer I guess it was only a matter of time before someone invented it and someone decided they needed to buy it.

Basically it’s a household appliance designed to hold a 5 lt keg and to chill – that’s right CHILL!!! – the beer at the same time. It’s about the size of a domestic coffee machine from what I gather and seems to be infinitely more useful! (Says she who nearly went spare without her coffee machine when it spent a week in the shop being fixed – some might say due to a problem caused by overuse…)

My addiction to all things stimulant aside… I think I would like to give this BeerMate thing a try. But at $600 a pop I won’t be buying one on a whim – think I might have to win one. Which means a lot more Bitburger!

Oh well – there are worse things a person might die of… like lack of caffeine…or a perfectly installed tap and no way of refrigerating the keg…

Not Sick, Just Sober

I have a sore throat like I haven’t had since I was nine.

When I still had tonsils. That were infected for roughly 8 months of the year.

There are things on the back of my throat that can only be described as “pustules” … and they look angry. Oh so angry.

So I’ve been duly miserable. Trying to take panodol every 4 hours not every 2 and living on throat lozenges. I haven’t been much fun. And the night before last – I couldn’t even face a beer.

Oh I know. The shame!!! But I just didn’t want to waste the beer on myself… if that makes sense. I felt a bit better last night so i thought I’d have a bevvy and see how I went… and you know what I found out?

I wasn’t that sick. I was a little bit sick and a big bit sober. When I woke up in the morning after tee-totalling I realised that:

a. mornings are far more shit than I could ever have imagined

and

b. this is how most people wake up every morning:

alert… hydrated… cheery…

OH MY GOD MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So here concludes this evening’s post. When you’re feeling poorly – too poorly to drink – just stop and think, please, that it’s not so much getting you drunk, but more preventing you from being sober.

And if you’re feeling crap, the last thing you want to do is feel crap and feel crap sober…

BBQ Time

I usually have something sarcastic to say. But not tonight. Tonight I just want to say how wonderful summer bbqs are. They are the epitomy of peace. Meat burning on the searing plate. Beer going warm in your hand, although not warm to start with

Tonight we had a summer bbq. It’s only spring, but it was a summer evening, the three of us sat and ate our fatty, gristly meat together, grinning through charcoal crusted teeth, squinting into the setting sun.

It was great. It was just how I imagined parenthood would be. Before I actually had a kid and then realised I would never eat a hot and/or complete meal again without a serious case of indigestion and a nervous twitch in one or both my eyes.

Anyway. It was lovely.

A moment to be treasured.

I’m just grateful I’d only had one beer so I can actually remember it…

Warm Beer?

Lately I have taken to drinking beer warm. Body temperature warm.

Not by choice, but just because that’s the only way I can manage to consume an entire can. It’s kinda for the same reason that I can’t seem to drink a cup of coffee while it’s still hot and not starting to resemble cooling tarmac… because I can’t seem to get to either of them in time.

I have taken on a new project which is to sew handbags and cushions for a funky new homewares store that is due to open at the end of November. I’m really exited about it because it’s a huge oppertunity for me. And it sounds so perfect doesn’t it? Being creative, working from home where I can tend to my delightful family, keep house, and generally be domestically goddess-like…

uh, right…

this is what my house looks like at the moment:

the living room looks like an illegal sweat-shop – except there are more breaches of OH&S, on top of the carpet there is another carpet made entirely of cotton threads, the bathroom is so fluffy it has now become an intricately woven mohair jumper, something smells like it has died in my kitchen (it probably has), Felix’s sheets actually stripped themselves and hopped into the washing machine in disgust and there appears to be a small family of badgers living in the pile of clothes next to my bed…

Also at this time when everything dangerous in the house has to be out at once – ie scissors, needles, pins, sewing machine, prozac – Felix has decided to wholly become his alter ego: Accident Man.

So, in between sewing my creations and attempting to keep everyone from coming down with scurvy, I find I am also losing a little bit more of my sanity every time I hear a crash and the inevitable pain-scream.

I have started just scooping Accident Man up and automatically putting a towel over my shoulder because inevitably there is blood and I’m sick of having a permanent shoulder pad made of blood, tears and booger.

After the screaming has died down and I have restored some semblance of order to the house, this is about when i realise I had made myself a coffee 2 hours ago. And, now, this is truly indicative of how my standards have plummetted since beoming a parent, I just think – Oh! A coffee! It’s stone cold, but at least i don’t have to make one now!

And I drink it.

Cold.

And I don’t care.

So, it’s the same with my beloved beer. When once i would have turned up my nose at anything less than freezing in temperature, now my first thought is – I KNEW I’d left a beer around here somewhere – WOO-HOO!!!

Just between you and me, I’ve been scouting about the place this morning – looking beneath the cotton thread carpet, in between the illegal sweat-shop workers and the family of badgers – just in case I did leave a half drunk beer somewhere around… coz I could really go a beer now.

Even if it is warm and starting to ferment into something else…

Drinking and Writing: Achieving the Impossible

Oh wow I am the worst blogger in the world! So many months so little time! I think this basically proves one thing though – I am a MUCH better drinker than I am writer!

So basically I have spent the entirety of the last 3 months drunk and have totally lost track of time. I’m sorry. Forgive me. See – you teach a toddler to fetch beer from the fridge and it works a little TOO well!

I’ve mainly been drinking my dear old Cascade Draught, occasionally a pint of the black stuff (you can’t drink a pint of Bovril!), a pint of Pale Ale, a pint of Moo Brew (thankyou Dave you are a sweetheart!) … the common factor here seems to be the overuse of the word PINT.

Now I have had an issue in the past with the pint – it’s too big, gets too warm and is too hard to hold. But I’ve found that when I’m out with people who are drinking pints that drinking a pot is silly. You can’t go in a shout. You need tweenies. And you feel like a total twat-head.

So the morals of this story are:

a) Don’t start a beer blog if you actually intend to drink beer for 12 hours out of every 24

b) You must drink out of the biggest vessel made available to you at all times

and

c) I should not be allowed to drink without a minder

(that’s more of a mental note to self thing, but maybe one of you might care to remind me of it before the inevitable truckload of trouble finds me next time I am drinking in public)