Ambulation

Giving a shout out to my homie....

You all need to stop what you're doing and go view The Gus, doin' his thang.

Scottish Ale Update:

The scottish ale that nearly killed me, Matt and Curt is now bottle conditioned.

Cracked one open today to find a very drinkable mellow ale with coppery overtones and a very clean finish. Not at all as hoppy as I had worried it would be since we failed to strain the hop pellets/nuclear boiling chips as we poured it in the carboy.

Disaster averted.

We had a delightful Italian dinner with G&A&C, "Pollo ai Burleschque," and as usual a great time was had by all.

 

Camille was intermittently in good spirits:

 

Curt had some good product in his hair, presumably to impress the photogenic girl

 

It was an excellent excuse to polish off a bottle of syrah. And a bottle of prosecco. 

Yet another haircut

So, this time there was appreciable loss of hair. We let a professional finish this particular job after there was an... unfortunate incident involving his bangs.

 

He's all grown up now, and ready to graduate to the beer bong.

 

We don't appear to have crushed his spirit by giving him a "young republican" cut. 

How NOT to Brew Beer

This story should start with the mess.

Sticky, syrupy, near boiling wort, roiling out of the pot with a vengeance. It charged at the two of us in an explosion of foam and fluid, aiming to blind us by boiling our eyes within their sockets, but instead cascaded up and up and up, flowing against gravity, against all reason. At the peak of this geyser of superheated mass it paused for effect, seemingly eyeing my kitchen with a dull, animal-like hatred. Then it unfurled itself, spreading out in midair and came plummeting down, coating everything in sight in this sticky, syrupy, near-boiling blanket of fluid, somewhow larger in volume than the pot it spawned from.

In the shocked and horrified calm after the assault, we checked our eye sockets to find that the beast of wort had not scoured the eyes from our faces. I could hear the hiss of natural gas flowing out of the burner, its flame snuffed out by the blanketing of sticky, syrupy, cooling goo, that now appeared to contain some mushy bits of hop pellet muck. I clicked off the gas. Wort continued to sheet down the ceiling and walls, pooling on the stove and in the burner recesses and at our feet. The air hung thick with hops, malt and a grainy scent that was the essence of the five species chosen for the recipe. We trudged through the muck to begin the long process of cleaning up, heads hung low in defeat and shame.

__________________________________

In other news, Matt and I brewed a batch of Scottish ale yesterday. As the pot neared its boil, Matt tossed in all the hop pellets at once, which acted as a fistful of boiling chips, sending the pot boiling over a little bit. Matt was a huge trooper, doing the majority of the cleanup, as I was busy holding Curt, who wanted desperately to get into every bit of it.

The beast of a wort is now safely contained in a sturdy carboy, venting happly through a level headed blow-off tube, and I'll be racking it over to a secondary fermenter within a day or two. I have high hopes for a yummy batch.

The End of the Summer

We did virtually nothing today. It rained and was no longer very summery here.

Curt took a pretty good nap:

Matt and The Gus came over later, a little drizzled upon.



There was a rousing game of Smash-Finger with the nearly-childproofed back room. Curt and The Gus took turns attempting to demolish each other's cute little fingers in the drawers of Curt's dresser. The carnage was NOT captured on camera, but suffice it to say that both of those children are mostly impact-resistant. I can't wait till they're old enough to make a truly horrid mess. Preferably at Matt's house.

Dessert with Dr. B

We went to gelato with Gary, Anne and Camille tonight. The company and the dessert were both great fun. Camille is turning out to be quite the photogenic baby. She snuggled me like I was made of teddy bear stuffing, too.
 
Curt was in fine spirits, always a plus.
 
Camille, looking adorable:
 
...And an action shot:
  
Where's the gelato, you ask? I ate it.

Jamison Sq.

We went to Jamison Square with Matt and T and the Gus. It was a blast. Curt hammed it up for the camera non stop. I filled a 1 GB flash card with photos like this. See also: the cuteness of Gus below.
 

 

 

  

Horsey Muley!

Curt met his first horse, yesterday!
 

And his first mule.
 

He was pleased.
  

Happy Birthday Curt

So, Curt had his first birthday, and in typical Norris fashion, he demonstrated that he does love him some chocolate dessert. Caution, this post is rated M for Messy Cake Carnage with Rasberry Filling Gore.

Walking Tall

That's right. Curt is walking. Well, going for very short strolls, really. It's still the biggest thing to happen in the house since he finished illuminating a copy of The Iliad

High-n-Tight... Not.

First Haircut!!
Before:


During:

After!!



I'm a little sad to see that his hair is no longer a force of nature, but I'm much happier to actually see his cute little face.

No Solicitors

Okay. You've come to my front door at 7:45pm, wanting me to sign some damn petition. I'm trying to cook dinner after 11 hours at work. The baby is screaming because your uninvited doorbell ringing has distracted him from the almighty breast. I don't care who you are, when I tell you I don't have time to talk to you, NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT, I am not kidding; I am not lying. Hear that baby crying? It's your fault and his mom is very busy right now. Smell that delicious food burning? I am not forfeiting dinner to listen to you. When I slam the door in your face, I hope you've figured these things out, because if I have to explain it to you any more while you stammer that you'll talk more quickly, that explanation will involve my foot up your ass.


  

Here, Feeshy Feeshy!

Imagine my surprise when Matt showed up for the sole purpose of delivering a Sushi Kit, and it turned out to be, of all things, an Ultimate Sushi Kit. Everything but the fish and the Very Sharp Knife. I am grateful and thank him profusely for the gift from the Southern Tsunami.