Thank goodness for Ken. I’ve been sick and holiday busy and not much in the mood to think, write or, heaven forbid, drink much beer. Ken saved us from a long stretch of no brewvana with his post on cleaning out the closet.
And suddenly it’s Christmas Eve. We’ve got family coming over for Navajo tacos, a tradition that began back in the late 90s when I taught English on the Navajo Reservation in Northern Arizona. Gets me to thinking about some of those early Christmas beers–now sentimental ones like the Potpourri Porter and Ginger-and-Mary Ann Ale. And then, what’s on the agenda for tonight: a few miscellaneous homebrews, flirting with a doppelbock in preparation for the next session, probably something else very dark.
Doesn’t matter what’s on the agenda. It’ll be a blend of quiet and loud. It’ll be me taking control of certain foods, and letting go of others. Me taking control of certain drinks and letting go of others. Me chatting with Kyle and Joe. And hiding just a little where it’s good for the blood pressure.
As I’ve been working on lately, striking a balance of caring a lot and caring very little. That sounds bad, but I mean it in a good way. Despite about six naps today, my brain ain’t expressing it right. Beer’s important, but it ain’t everything. It’s fun to plan all the perfect beers for any given event, but it’s also important to just let all the perfect beers happen–which is probably what will be happening tonight.