Brew Day - Part II

>> Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Now, where was I?

Oh yes, Brew Day (you can read all about the riveting beginnings of that fateful morn here). To quickly catch you up, things were looking grim--much like my hair--that morning, or at least my attitude was. And why shouldn't I be a Miss Crankypants? I had a high-pressure, time-sensitive morning that including cleaning the kitchen and fixing multiple breakfasts, not to mention brushing my teeth for goodness sakes. And that wasn't even including the stuff on my actual to-do list. Let's review, shall we?

- I had five of ten book cover graphics I needed to complete by Monday, and was really ticked at the prospect of playing catch up on The Lord's Day (that's Sunday to me and you). I am a Christian, after all.

- I had to make Mother's Day cards for two whole mothers.

- I had to clean the bathroom. A dirty bathroom is the bane of my hospitable existence.

- I had to go to the grocery store. Gwenivere was completely out of yogurt, for the love of humanity.

- I had to pick up the toy-strewn, furniture-toppled living room (living rooms, I've come to find out, take on the strangest configurations when there is a newly-crawling baby present).

To make matters worse, Aaron and I had our own brew/date day the previous Saturday. Aaron's mom even babysat Gwenivere all day. It was supposed to be an enjoyable day for just the two of us to have fun making beer, and for me to really "take the reins" in making it, since up until that point it had really been "our hobby" in name only. I looked at the day from a practical, wise, even self-sacrificial perspective. I got the whole day, without the baby to worry about, to conquer any cleaning project my heart desired! Joy of joys! (if you know me, you'd understand). Oh, and make beer, too. Kill two birds with one stone, right?

Well, our brew/date day ended with squeaky-clean carpets, but not such a squeaky-clean conscience. Oh yes, I made beer with Aaron, but I was only there in body, not spirit. Try as I could, my excitement for making the beer was overshadowed by removing the shadows of dirt on my carpet. By the time Gwenivere was dropped off, I was exhausted, and Aaron was a little bummed that his woman didn't show a genuine interest his favorite hobby in the entire universe. Later that evening, I admitted to him that I was wrong and promised that I would focus my entire beer-loving being on the next batch.


But did it have to be now? When all my book covers are due in 48 hours and I need to make cards 'cause ya gotta honor your mother, right? and I can't believe the kitchen is a shambles and there's spots on the bathroom sink chrome and someone might judge me and I can't believe you want bacon, too?

I could smell smoke, but it wasn't from the bacon. It was coming from my ears. I knew what I had to do.

To be continued...


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