#Before30BucketList: Go To A Brewery

(First, go to this post if you don’t know what my #Before30BucketList is. I’ll also be going back to that original post and noting each goal accomplished if you want to keep up but miss out on some of my posts.)

This was the very first thing I achieved on my bucket list. I didn’t even know I wanted it on my bucket list until Mike’s cousin (my cousin-in-law?) invited me to join him for his birthday which was about a week prior to mine (though we went on mine). Then it hit me that I always hear about wineries and people loving to get silly drunk while sampling all the different kinds of wine, but I hate wine and prefer beer so of course it would make sense for me to go to a brewery. Why aren’t they more talked about? They should be.

Anyway, even though I was very excited about going, I was also kind of skeptical because I’m not a high-maintenance beer drinker. I don’t know about IPAs or Porters or Stouts or Lagers (I literally just had to google “different kinds of beer” to give you a decent selection). I’m a Miller Lite kind of girl. The fanciest beer I drink is Cinnamon Blue Moon because I just happened to stumble upon it at a family party one time. Whenever anyone talks about “really good beer” I tend to dislike it. Something about me not liking it very hoppy, or liking it more hoppy — my sister-in-law tried to explain it to me once based on my average beer choice but I didn’t understand. Or maybe I quit listening. Or maybe I got drunk on my cheap beer.

That’s another thing. This cousin (in-law) is very “cultured”. He enjoys finer things. I don’t know the first thing about finer things. He was the best man at my wedding and I literally changed the attire for the whole wedding party because we argued for months about him not wanting to wear the colors I initially chose for the groomsmen (not outrageous, mind you). Apparently he reads GQ and I read Playboy not for the articles.

We do share a love of books, and our family, and politics, and drinking, and some eccentricities. So we bond over the things we have in common.

When we got to the brewery I half expected the beer to be delivered in fancy-pants glasses and for him to sip them carefully and mutter things men with pocket-watches say. Instead we got our beverages in plastic cups in a great barn room with a very relaxing atmosphere. There were a few other family members with us, and although we didn’t stay long I had a great time.

I also learned that I do really like beer. I sampled every kind they had and enjoyed them all, but the Porter was definitely my favorite. I still don’t know what that means, but at least I’m beginning to learn. Maybe someday I’ll be considered “cultured” instead of “a weird hippie-like freak”.

Brewery Beer Tasting

Hildreth German Wheat / Dennisville Inn Porter (fave) / Farmstead Bradner Brown / (There were also two other options that I tasted separately)

After receiving our beer (and fancy homemade soda for the husband / designated driver) we went out back to the “fire pit”. It took us some fooling around to realize that the fire pit was more like those hot rock pits you find in saunas. Only it was only hot in the middle. And when you dug through the warm rocks there were pipes running through it. I guess that was the source of heat. I was a little tipsy by that point.

I looked up at the trees and smiled with my belly warm and my family near. It wasn’t an exhilarating adventure, but it was an adventure nonetheless and I enjoyed it. I learned from it. I bonded over it. And I plan on doing it again.

Companions: Husband, Aunt, Cousin, Cousin

Food Along The Way: $20
Beer: Courtesy of Aunt
Gas: $8
Tolls: Courtesy of Dad

Goal Total: $28

1st Goal Accomplished
List Item #2: Go To A Brewery

On 3-19-2017

Bucket List Total: $28

Reminder: Shitting On Yourself is Not Fun

(Disclaimer: This post contains a lot of fucks, but not a lot of fucks given.)

I’m an addict. We all know this. It’s old news.

I mean, I guess that depends on what your definition of old is. Is 10 years old? Because that’s when it started. So really, my addiction is in elementary school.

Which makes me feel a little better about this next bit, because if my addiction is in elementary school than my sobriety is still a toddler. It’s probably not even in daycare yet.

So it’s only natural for it to forgo the potty; to forget how horrible shitting all over yourself is, and want to do it again, right?

potty toilet draw

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Well, Shit.

I had my first night baby-free since my birthday — March 19th, so 3 months exactly. My mom picked up the boy around noon. Jack got him ready because I was so exhausted I slept in. I woke up after he asked me to several times, but by then everything was already set to go so he told me I could go back to sleep. Which I did.

And then I didn’t wake up again until around 4pm.

Which, to me, was amazing. But apparently to Jack was a big no-no.

Last night, when I told him my mom would be taking the boy overnight, he made plans to go out to a local bar. Amazingly, he invited me as well. (Which is seriously a big deal because he never invites me to go out with him.) But he was going out around 6:30, and I was not even close to ready to face the world. So I stayed home for a few hours and wrote (and played a few games online and watched some TV), then got in the shower and SHAVED! (HUGE deal — but Jack had told me the other day that I was “gross” because I hadn’t shaved in a few months.) After the shower (which is in itself a big deal if you know me — I hate getting wet) I immediately got ready, talked to Poppa for a few minutes, took the dog for a walk, and headed out. I probably didn’t get there until around midnight, but I did get there. I conquered  all of the big and huge deals.

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