bierkergaard

Last Saturday, I brewed my "Imperial Claus" beer. Brewing beer is in my Germanic DNA. My Grandfather helped design Coors, Budweiser, Hamms, and other breweries. We still have many of his architectural drawings. The Imperial Claus--I have a knack for naming beers--is an Imperial IPA. High ABV, high hoppy beer. I threw in a good amount of my homegrown hops into the brewpot in addition to the 3 hop pouches that came with the kit. The beer has an eerie green glow. Think Naughty & Nice, Santa with a Snape-like edge. I am usually not super-technical but when I brew, I ramp up whatever lab and quantitative skills I possess and muster my inner-scientist. Precision and cleanliness are critical in home-brewing. And since I am also cheap, nothing is worse than brewing a botched batch of beer. It is only at the end of the bottling process that one realizes that the kit was compromised along the way. After all of that work and fifty bucks, just to have a ruined run of beer. I ...

Every year, as the seasons change from Summer to Fall, I make an annual visit to that repository of theological tomes, Books-A-Million in York, or known loftily and perhaps sluggishly as BAM to purchase my new devotional for the next year. BAM has quite a sparse Christian section. Oh, there are plenty of religious books, but not much in those books. Popcorn, snacky-snacks, air. Last years devotional was decent. Not bad, not great. A bit naive. A recent entry of false prophets said that they could have good motives. Huh? Stuff like that. As mentioned the last couple of weeks, I have been on an unschismatic run recently of Catholic and Protestant translations of the Psalms. Last night's reading of Psalm 45 (Psalm 46 for non-Catholic translations) gave a great wording for a familiar verse, "Be empty and see that I am God." The Protestant translations use the word "Still" rather than "Empty." I rather like the usage of Empty. Empty just is more sta...

Friday night I finally did the Slow-Ride in Lancaster. I have wanted to do it all Summer but one thing or another prevented me. Essentially, it is a herd of bicyclists riding together through town en masse, like a marauding horde, just genial. All ages and all types ride. It was fun and interesting. Not really much of a work-out but it is called "Slow-Ride" after all. We did some slow beer drinking afterwards. I am sure some of the drivers of cars were irritated that we took up the city roads. Yet, we had probably 60-70 bikers so majority-rules. I think we have all encountered sole or small groups of bicyclists who act as if they DO own the road, little fascists on wheels. It wasn't that. We did own the road one and two blocks at a time. Admittingly, drivers of cars generally need to be more cautious around bicyclists and give them the required four-feet of space. Bicyclists also need to use some common sense and get over to the side, ride single-file, and just not ...

Psalm 26 The L ORD  is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? The L ORD  is my life’s refuge; of whom should I be afraid?   (Catholic Domain Bible)  Because of  rising early during the week, I get up early on the weekends also. Sometimes I can get back to sleep, most of the time I can't. I envy those that have a weekend-setting for sleeping-in like the iPhone alarm setting. 5 days of up early means that Saturday and Sunday, I am getting up. Majority rules. I tend to be that way, on or off, up or down, black or white. So, I arise while it is still dark and begin the ritual of waking up, drinking some coffee, and letting the clouds of subconsciousness lift in the sun of wakefulness. The last couple of weeks I have also been lighting a candle in the living room. Its soft glow fits my progressive return to life. I think it must be my high church background of candles and incense as a kid at St. Monica's in Berwyn, Pa. I don't think the material...

Galatians 5:1 Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage. About a year ago, I decided to move most of my fitness to the morning before work. Since then, I have been pretty consistent with lifting three days, riding the exercise bike three days, and then taking a day off. My morning routine is timed to be like clockwork. Up at 5:00, breakfast until 5:20. Devotional reading from 5:20-5:30. Reflection until 5:40. Work-out from 5:45 to 6:05. Shower, dress, and out the door by 6:45. Work by 7:15. I also do assorted aerobic activities such as biking, running, and kayaking, in substitute or in addition to the exercise bike, usually though in the PM. It is one of those paradoxes that discipline gives freedom. I don't spend a lot of time hemming and hawing about my morning routine. I follow the path and remove it from consideration. When I used to work-out at night, I typically would spend a large amou...

Returned today from my Dad's Cabin up in the woods near the Lake. Labor Day Weekend has become the time to celebrate the German culture of the campground, as the Cabin is part of a larger collection of Cabins that were first purchased by our families over 50 years ago. My Grandparents bought their Cabin in the late 50's/early 60's sometime and I have been visiting for close to 50 years. Going to the Cabin over Labor Day has become a tradition. The celebration is an Oktoberfest of sorts (minus the oom-pah-pah music) with the requisite German food and beer. I like to hang out with my Dad and shoot the breeze. I also get to see some of my Cousins and my Uncle. I always shake my head about how fast time flies, since the Cabin celebration is the annual bookend of the summer. Another 365 chapters as days read. Or are days pages? Hmmm. The days and nights are turning cooler and the Cabin. being further North, is a premonition of sorts in regards to the weather changing. Goo...

Until I was well into my 30's, did I learn to start to cook. Until then, in my adult life, I had pretty much subsisted on oatmeal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the school lunch where I work, and spaghetti, with the occasional eggs over the weekend. I took the obligatory vitamin to cover the bases. Oh yeah, I could make toast also. In preparation for Y2K, I had stocked-piled about 30 canisters of oats, which to my credit, I ate every last bite of, several years past the expiration dates. The Indians saved our bacon regarding Y2K. We were closer to a meltdown than we thought. They still knew the older programming coding and were willing  to work cheap. A transatlantic cable allowing a lot of data to flow between our two countries had been connected a couple of years before. A close call. With the oatmeal, I envisioned myself as some neighborhood Joseph, parceling out the grains to emaciated and grateful neighbors, me becoming mayor of Columbia or something in the end. ...