The Myth & The Majesty

This is a beer with a story. Almost a year ago, my parents went to Tacoma, Washington, for a conference along with several of Dad's cohorts. One of said cohorts -- who is not a beer guy -- won a rather pretty stainless steel growler filled with beer. Remember that part where I said it was almost a year ago? Yeah, keep that in mind. Dad went to another conference this week (a local one this time) and that same guy was there. And he'd brought along his gifted growler. "Hey, I know you like this kind of stuff ... Why don't you take this?" When he got home, we all had a pretty good laugh at the (again, rather pretty) growler and speculated about the beer. A year old in a growler? Probably not going to be a great experience, even though the guy was sure to point out that he'd kept it in the fridge this whole time. Guess what? It's delicious. Seriously, really tasty. A clean IPA with a smooth finish and ... I'm impressed. And as impressed as I...

When I was a kid, my parents moved a lot, but I always found them. - Rodney Dangerfield You know what? This isn't a fun topic. I don't enjoy moving. I am well aware that I am not alone in that feeling, and perhaps that's why I've struggled for the last four weeks to finish this dumb post. From the packing and the loading and the cleaning to the more packing and loading and cleaning, it's a tedious, un-fun activity. Sure, there are high points (the rediscovery of lost things can be fun, and I enjoyed the heck out of purging entire boxes of stuff) but in the end you're still exhausted and your things are still in disarray. And my stuff? It's all in disarray. If you're lucky, you then get to take said things to a new place and begin undoing all that work you just did. If you're not lucky, said things sit and wait, hopefully in a place that's dry and relatively temperature-controlled. (If you're really unlucky... well, use your ima...

[I wrote this a couple months ago but didn't immediately publish, for reasons which will soon become clear.] It's November and my life is about to change. It's my second day in Denver. Lakewood, actually, right this second -- although I haven't stopped moving since I got here. The weather is still unseasonably warm and Thanksgiving is a week and a half away. I've found my way to another coffee joint -- five bucks gets a bagel and coffee, the rental fee to sit still for a bit to process the week. I'm trying to figure out how to quit my job. I've been offered a job in Denver that I cannot turn down. It's a return to the engineering I so desperately miss. Even better, it's in a town I've been wanting to move to since I was 22, staring at the world with wide, unfocused eyes. This trip didn't start that way. Originally, I was coming down to visit Alaska and take a break. The camp had me stressing out and after getting an earful, he'...

Something weird happened on this blog last week. No, obviously it wasn't a post. I'm aware that I haven't been posting. Shush, you. That's actually what I wanted to show you, though. On a couple of occasions, I've been able to tell you guys a little about ... you . Blogger has their own built-in stats for the blogs they host and they allow me to keep an eye on things -- how the time of day affects the hits I get, how things are different when I include pictures, and exactly how much help Facebook gives me. (A lot. It gives a lot of help. Holy buckets.) Last week, I had an odd hour. It seemed only natural that it would happen now. My conversations with Shorty and Mia Sorella have been somewhat more statistics-heavy as of late and I've been watching my numbers a bit more closely. Lo and behold, I was given an opportunity to play with Excel. This is an approximation of our text string and I'm pretty sure it's relatively accurate. And a ...

This is the longest I've lived in one house in my adult life. I mention this because holy cow, have I accumulated a bunch of stuff I don't need.  A week ago, all of my furniture and half my boxes got hauled out thanks to the help of friends and family and a Uhaul. Since then I've been sorting, tossing, and packing boxes while basically camping in my living room. And it has been ... illuminating. No matter where I end up next, I won't have the space I have now. This is the ultimate opportunity to cut back. And it's working. I think. This is the dregs part of packing. It's no one's favorite part. This is when I start questioning moving at all. This is the point where the Admiral, seven years ago, genuinely considered burning a house down. Okay, fine. Maybe he didn't consider it that  seriously. To cope, I find myself binging on TV shows I've already watched (because they don't take any concentration) and having impromptu movi...

"What a difference it makes in the world when you don't have a headache and you don't feel like s***." - Wise words from my sister. You know what's not fun?  Being sick.  Yes, yes, I know. That's the single most profound thing I've said in months. Thank you.  After my granddad's bout with influenza A, other family members started dropping like flies. A cousin. My dad, who tested positive early last week. Then my mom, who managed to escape for a few days but apparently not completely. And then my aunt, uncle, and cousin who also live out at the ranch.  Like. Flies. I was paranoid. I'd been at the hospital and around each of these people. Then Tuesday came and I had a sore throat ... and Wednesday was worse.  So I quarantined myself for a couple days, just to be on the safe side. No need to let that madness spread, and since the flu can be passed basically by looking at someone who's contagious ... yeah.  I'd ...

It's the last day of what has proven to be a very long month. And once again, it's snowing. My words are scrambled and I can't seem to put them in proper order.. I will, however, send you to the message our bishop wrote regarding the New Guy's immigration/refugee motions. Bishop Ough's words are so much better than what I could say. That's all for now. Back to work.