Tag: beer

Until Tomorrow

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Staring at a blank screen. The modern day blank paper. Think of something, do it now. Be creative, write some words worth repeating. Yet nothing. Nothing nothing nothing.

Well always something but it can feel like nothing. It’s times like these you remember to just start saying something, anything. Less than three weeks left. How will I force myself when I don’t have to. That is the real discipline. But I have an idea. Ideas never unfold as supposed to though. I’m curious to know how it’ll feel not to write. After one year of doing this everyday no matter what. How do you then experience not doing it. I might actually miss this little blog.

What to replace it with though. Likely nothing I’ll force upon others in the short term at least but hopefully something creative in another respect. It was discussed, the importance of creativity with a friend a few weeks ago. To say it is important over simplifies an understanding of creativity. But to go down that route in this moment will only result in me being both ridiculous and pretentious. Let’s just say it brings something to life, creativity in any form. it’s not just painting a picture or writing some words, it anything, it’s life.

Bellend.

That’ll do. I have heartburn. I wasn’t very creative with my dinner tonight and ate yesterdays lentils and sausage mixed with some pasta. My burps taste of sausage but I think it’s the day old lentils that have done it. I have a feeling day old lentils do this type of thing. Ah feelings. I quite fancy a beer. I think I’m just thirsty. I would love to say I don’t add salt to my food but certainly that sausage would have been packed full. Sausages are so disgusting yet we always go back. That’s because they’re also really tasty. Or they can be. This one was.

A Cretan rustic sausage to be precise. I liked Crete. I would like to go back. I was tempted this winter actually. Seems like a strange time to be moving places though. The world is shutting down and I’m doggedly fighting what is before my eyes. Why do we do this. Why can acceptance be so difficult. Too many options I always say. Most likely fear of something not immediately obvious. Back to Scotland instead though and what feels like the epicentre of everything viral. It isn’t but seemingly not far off. To leave a reasonably relaxed, warm Greece for a dark, cold inevitable lockdown in Scotland. We make the strangest of choices. They are neither right nor wrong because there is not such thing. Simply a series of events we compare against each other based upon a set of ideas formed from something long forgotten. And yet we choose value and we choose our response to this choice. One day we shall overcome. That’s likely what death beds are for though. Avoiding life’s only real obsession may be wise for now.

I shall end on this.

For now. And come back tomorrow.

On The Road Again

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“See it. Say it. Sorted” says a message on the loud speaker after telling passengers to report anything suspicious. Don’t get me wrong there have been situations involving public transport in the past but the constant need to remind people of the fear they should be in, the potential that there could always be something to look out for, makes me far uneasier than any possible – I’m assuming terrorist – danger does.

I just missed my mouth slightly and spilt beer on my face mask. We can add that to the drawbacks list. I’ve never quite understood why when drinking alcohol is illegal in outdoor public places, on buses, even as a passenger in cars apparently; it is perfectly fine to drink on a train. I can only assume it has something to do with them being able to sell alcohol themselves and it being impossible to regulate train beer from carry on beer. Maybe it’s just a throwback to dining carts. I’m not complaining. Few countries in the world seem to allow such things and I see it as a genuine positive of what is already probably my favourite form of transport. I’ll take a bus if I have to, I’ll avoid the train if it’s too expensive and I’ll take the plane if it makes more practical sense but there’s still something I enjoy about a train that I’m yet to put my finger on entirely. Comfortable, fast, easy, goes through scenic areas. Maybe I should go on one of those long train journeys like the Trans-Siberian or across America, the Andes, Australia and anywhere else that begins with ‘A’.

Despite spending the last few months delivering bread and working in a bakery and pizza shop I seem a little more nervous about this virus though. The little Northumberland seaside village and the Scottish countryside of my parents feels like a little bubble I’ve stepped out of. I’ve gone south where bad things happen. I’m now in the real world. A world with dangers.

I can still only smell beer. This is going to make me paranoid. Is it me, do I stink of beer or is it simply a drop on my mask leading to a false reading. I’m not sure if I can spend the next twelve hours breathing beer fumes.

I’m on the move again then. Off to Greece. I’ve mentioned it previously but I doubt anyone reads every post every day so this is me informing you all I’m off to Greece. I had a short break in Dublin over Christmas but it does feel like I’ve not been abroad for a year now. This virus really has made us change our way of existing. I’m a little nervous actually and I’m curious how I’ll feel about it. I have a habit of wishing for the sedentary life when I travel a little too much and the travelling life when I’m in one spot for too long. Considering it has been a long time since Christmas and an even longer time since my last adventure, the wishing became a slight insanity.

It can be hard to leave though. We become comfortable and after all these years I do wonder if maybe I am getting a little old for all this. Ten years ago I did meet people in their thirties just starting out so perhaps age has little to do with it. We just experience things in a different way. I do find it harder to leave my parents each time though, especially now in this present virus related fear period. I don’t give a shit about potentially suspicious packages, I give a shit about my loved ones coming into contact with a deadly virus. Leaving them at the train station questioning whether it will be the last time I’ll see them but knowing I have to leave regardless. The truth is, life goes on. The whole world ground to a halt for a few months once already and now we just have to get on with it. It is easy to blame the economy and capitalism but it’s human nature. We can’t stand still. Sometimes it’s not always easy though.

Ten Day Challenge

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My last Ten Day Challenge involved no news at all for, well, ten days. I’ve decided to do another one. If truth could be told I put the name of this in italics with capitals because I imagine it must be a thing and if I searched online I would find all kind of Ten Day Challenges. I won’t look though because if I do and I find loads of people do these kind of things then instinctively I won’t want to do any ever again. I may even wish I hadn’t confessed to the world, or at least the three people who read this, that I partake in such things. I remember months ago at the beginning of lockdown I wrote a piece on running the 5K Challenge. I can’t say for sure I hadn’t heard about it beforehand and allowed it to slip from my conscious mind, but a week after writing about my ordeals running five kilometres, and after giving it the name 5K Challenge, everyone started talking about their times in the 5K Challenge. Either I’m a trend setter and an influencer, or most likely I’ve picked up the name from somewhere and not realised it. Either way when I discovered it was a thing I wished I hadn’t been so uncool, written about it and publicly acknowledged my participation in something. Next I’ll be pouring ice buckets over my head. So either I ignore the possibility that the world is already familiar with a multitude of Ten Day Challenges, that Instagram probably already did it to death years ago, that I’m actually far less cool than I want to be or I just remain in a ignorant bubble.

All that and I haven’t even told you what I’m doing. The longest and least interesting waffle of a build-up in history. Drum roll please…in an entirely original and never done before way, let’s forget Dry January or Sober October, I’m going to give up alcohol for the next ten days. It’s not as if I’ve become an alcoholic but at the beginning of lockdown I saw so many people embracing the beautiful weather and buying a lot of alcohol. I felt that even though I was working still I shouldn’t miss out on the pleasure of drinking at home. As if I too was on holiday, I joined the fun. Warm weather makes me want to drink, when I’m abroad I drink more during the day and over these last few months the weather in this usually cold and miserable country has inspired an increase in my alcohol consumption. It’s been a while, let’s be honest probably long before lockdown, that I went ten days without a drink but I’m about to finish day two of ten. Today was such a lovely warm and sunny day, it would have been perfect to quench my thirst with a nice cold beer but I stood firm, allowing only pure unrefined water to touch my lips. What a hero yet again. I’m glad I’m the only one ever to have managed such an achievement.

An Actual Pint

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I was going to talk about the football this evening but it was such an absolute shambles of a shit show of a result I would rather not. I’ve felt a bit hungover today and the players played as if they too went to the pub last night for the first time in five months. So I went to the pub for the first time in five months last night then. I didn’t get there until about ten o’clock after I finished work and it was already a little quieter. We sat outside in the beer garden although went inside to order a pint. Had we been earlier we would probably have had to sign in and give some details but by the time we got there it was too late and all the staff appeared shit faced enough not to care. That’s probably not very reassuring lets be honest. I’ll keep an eye on any coughs that develop.

After the first pint I started really enjoying being back in that environment. At first it felt like a slight anti-climax, but thankfully that passed. I had really wanted a pint at some point probably in May but that too passed and I didn’t really give a shit. The idea was to let the idiots all go back first and if everything appeared alright after a while, to cautiously venture in. I kind of did that, probably went back a little earlier than previously planned. In truth though I do enjoy a pub, the feel of a pint of freshly poured beer somehow always tastes better than drinking a can on the sofa. I imagine I’m not the only person out there who started to find that a little tedious.

And that’s that done now. One step closer to what we normally call normality. Maybe this is the new normal the politicians like to refer to. Such a disconcertingly ominous phrase for anyone who’s ever felt slightly paranoid about the potentially sadistic desires of their government. With this mob anything is possible, thankfully an implosion seems more likely but they’ll probably still try to ride out any wave that comes their way. So the new normal it is then. Suspect it’ll just be whatever I decide as usual. At least it was nice to get a pint in me on the way. I also made a barbecue on a wheel barrow today, I enjoyed that, I do enjoy making fire.

The Coors Family

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Today’s discovery revolves around the Coors family. For those unfamiliar with shit beer, they’re the ones who invented ‘Coors’ back in the nineteenth century and who still insist on pushing it on ignorant confused people who presumably don’t know any better. This is an episode of the podcast The Dollop, which I think I’ve mentioned before on here, but it’s premise is two comedians, one telling the history the other with no knowledge of the usually bizarre subject, making jokes and taking the piss. They’re quite long episodes which can put people off, this one is over one hundred minutes, but there’s worse you can and will do with your time.

There are a few companies I’ve boycotted over the years, from Nestle to Coco Cola to Amazon, and now after listening to this I can add Coors to the list. Thankfully I wouldn’t go near it as a drink anyway but now I have an ethical reason not to. The problem with that though is like any of these mega corporations they also own virtually everything else and while a lot of their range is equally mass produced crap there are a few beers I have enjoyed over the years such as Caffreys, Staropramen and Cobra, and when desperate Blue Moon – Coors own the Blue Moon Brewery itself. They also seem to own the old Mitchell and Butler brewery but I can’t find confirmation whether they also own the pub chain by the same name or whether they’re now two separate entities. Admittedly they’re not always great pubs but they can serve a purpose. Over the years my boycotts have never been one hundred percent successful but my beer purchasing habits will certainly now be affected.

What’s he talking about I hear you screaming. Yes this is such a long winded intro into the Coors family but I don’t really want to give too much away. Adolph Coors emigrated from what was Prussia to America and set up the Coors brewery in 1873. The family itself seemed to be loveless and hateful towards each other, and once his son Adolph II took charge he ruled the family through dictatorial fear. Some members of the family suffered from debilitating extreme right wingness, while others found God and became Christian extremists, or Evangelicals if you so desire. They lobby vehemently against women’s right, racial equality, LGTB rights, workers rights and so on. William Coors who ran the company in the latter part of the twentieth century once gave a speech to a room full of black businessmen on how the black mans brain was inferior and that they should be grateful their ancestors were brought across as slaves as it allowed them to become civilised. His brother Joseph was the right winger who he described as “being slightly to the right of Attila the Hun”, which coming from a racist is quite the statement. Joseph was also a special adviser to and part of Ronald Reagans ‘Kitchen Cabinet’. They were even involved with Oliver North and the Iran-Contra scandal. The family currently fund right wing think tanks and other organisations trying to challenge equality in all those forms mentioned. There is more but I both can’t remember everything and don’t want to give it all away. There were murders, suicides and such hatred that it does suggest there may be some truth in the idea that right wingers are just projecting their own self-loathing and anger onto the rest of us. The Coors Family are just vile, unfortunately very powerful, people. I’m amazed that I have never heard about them and all they get up to. Clearly it was a very informative podcast.

Most of the juicy stuff mention above comes towards the latter part of the podcast with earlier stuff just discussing the internal workings of the family itself. They seemed mainly to just do damage to each other and themselves until about the 1960s at which point all the above happened. Seriously, fuck them. The world doesn’t need people like that. They make the human race worse.

Chasing That Vitamin D

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The sun came out today and it was magnificent. Actually the sun has been out for about a month but it was also a massive fifteen degrees which makes it almost feel like you’re somewhere exotic. Having spent years chasing the sun a younger version of me would have scoffed at my excitement but a younger version of me hadn’t just spent the whole winter in this bizarre, dark and wet land. This undoubtedly plays it’s part and can be compared to that time when I lived in Ibiza and it rained for the first time in six months. I felt unadulterated joy and happiness, similar I imagine to a farmer in the Sudan. Actually a little less because I wasn’t starving, in the poorest country in Africa and relying on that rain to survive so it literally wasn’t the same, but I can say with certainty it was somewhere between there and how I would feel if it started raining now.

The moment I realised I was experiencing a form of happiness was then I was sitting in my car, the fifteen degrees needed a little boost. I could feel the sun shining on my arm and after a while I could feel the heat building, I was cooking a little and I felt the vitamin D coursing through my body. It was the strangest sensation but I could feel the joy emanating from that spot. It was at this moment that I realised I was less content about being here and not somewhere warm than I suggested about a week ago. Don’t get me wrong nothing has fundamentally changed but I definitely started craving just hanging out of the beach, drinking some beer, eating some food, napping, the typical things people do. It was at this point I started imagining I could happily visit Costa Rica of all places. I have heard talk of it previously so this wasn’t entirely out of the blue but it was definitely a nice little fantasy that managed to take me away from the present for a bit. Interestingly enough it was when the sun came out that I wanted to leave and not throughout the whole of the winter. Our minds are confusing little pests sometimes.

I wonder what summer is going to be like here. I’m in a little touristy area beside the beach and arguably it’s what I’m after just not quite the foreign version I’m used to. My friend was horrified I was drinking beer on the beach the other day as apparently it’s illegal. I suggested he need to sort his life out. He said the same to me. Costa Rica it is not but when I imagine people stuck in blocks of flats in big cities right now I realise once again how bloody lucky I am and how in truth I don’t long for anything other than what I’ve managed to find myself. I forget to see what surrounds me sometimes. We all do. I don’t beat myself up over it, it’s just good to remember and notice sometimes. South Sudan it is not. In fact, arguably it is somewhere between there and well, anywhere. At least it’s somewhere.

Life’s Twists & Turns

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I was going to talk about something important, as always, but I’m currently wallowing in the post breakfast euphoria of this…

Focaccia eggy bread, with blue cheese, wild smoked salmon and a ‘garnish’ of rocket

I’m so painfully middle class I’m not even fighting it anymore. I also managed to remember that I was going to talk about different and uncontrollable paths in life. I realised last night that had this virus not become a thing I would have just been departing an Easyjet flight from Edinburgh to Athens, ready to say hello to some old faces and getting excited about a summer sailing around Greek islands drinking beer and wine, and eating too much of the world’s best cuisine. Yes I just made that statement. But that was what could have been.

I’m currently making pizzas as previously mentioned. This won’t go on forever and the lifting of lockdown will have an affect upon it but at most it’ll be a summer gig until the schools go back and the tourists disappear. This was never meant to be the plan as I said but it’s just what I’m doing now. Maybe in July I’ll have had enough of it and realise I’m wasting my time but that is something for future me to deal with. The point is that we clearly can’t control life’s ever evolving patterns. We can influence certain elements of it but let’s be honest in most things we’re pretty powerless. If you can’t sail, you just do something else. You meet other people, make other bonds. And you go with that and see what happens.

The truth is that while undeniably I’m longing for a holiday sitting on a beach somewhere in the sun and waking up whenever it pleases me, I’m perfectly content with this version of existence and how it’s unfolding. Maybe something will ruin that contentment, maybe something won’t. The point is not to tell you I’m living some kind of perfect life because I’m not, there’s no such thing, but there’s a good chance the whole world is doing something completely different in this Covid-19 version of existence and I just enjoyed the fact that last night I was sitting there and had a fairly good idea of exactly what I would have been doing. That I think is a rare pleasure, and a pleasure because I’m not longing for either. If we make the most of whatever we do end up doing we’re less likely to long for anything else.

And that goes for my breakfast too. It is Sunday today and while I love to think I would be in the Koukaki district of Athens looking for some little hipster brunch place, most likely I would be grabbing a spanakopita from the first bakery I could find from the few that open on a Sunday in Greece before driving to Preveza and fixing up a boat. Yes I desire that, but I’m pretty happy with whats sitting in my belly currently too.

As I read over that I felt at one point I wanted to vomit on myself. Don’t get me wrong the sentiment about uncontrollable existence and riding it’s wave still stands. It’s just I’m painfully aware that the two possible versions of existence I know of are pretty decent and there are plenty out there who don’t even have one decent version. “If you can’t sail, you just do something else“, I mean come on, what a wanker. But I don’t feel guilty, I don’t feel bad and I don’t feel I want to give up my blue cheese, what would that achieve. I’m just aware I’m incredibly lucky. Maybe I should find a way to share my blue cheese instead.

So Very Thirsty These Days

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I think I’m evolving into one of those people who drinks a little every evening after work. Socially acceptable middle class alcoholism or something like that. When I get in from making pizzas I really enjoy a couple of beers. I takes the edge off lets say. Thankfully I only make pizzas three days a week but I’m aware of that craving for a drink and how much of a habit it becomes to feel it and then satiate it. Saying that in the grand scheme of things I’m probably drinking less over all than if I went to the pub and had a drinking session. Admittedly these don’t really seem to happen a great deal anymore but still the point remains.

Why do I feel like it’s something I shouldn’t be doing then. Is drinking two or three beers on my own when I get in somehow socially unacceptable now. Should I be ashamed of doing this. Why do I feel I need to be sneaky about it, although I’m obviously not, there’s certainly something that makes me want to keep it hidden. Have societies pressures finally got to me. If I had a girlfriend or flat mate it would be acceptable to come back and have a couple of drinks, so being a solitary drinker of two drinks is the issue. I genuinely don’t know what makes me feel like this is something I shouldn’t be doing. I used to be wild – says every thirty-four year old ever – and now I’m experiencing these thoughts and emotions about something so normal. Strange times.

But it would be wrong to mention this desire for a drink without raising awareness of addiction. In this case sugar addiction. I’m not saying alcoholism isn’t a very real thing but having observed that feeling of desire and necessity I have noticed that sometimes I crave alcohol in times when I’m also craving something sweet. If I give up the sugar for a week lets say, I very quickly lose interest in having a drink and it is undeniable the two are related. Anyone who has ever said “Oh I really needed that” after taking that first large gulp of their pint is feeding some addiction somewhere and it would be foolish to deny the existence of sugar in beer. People know and acknowledge the issue with sugar in alcoholic drinks but rarely do they seem to relate the connection between sugar addiction and alcohol consumption. Let’s see how this evolves in these changing times.

The Countryside In Quarantine

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Another beautiful sunny day outside. How much I would have enjoyed spending Easter up north in Scotland somewhere. Whenever anyone has every asked me about the homeland I’ve always suggested April, May too but it usually rains more in May. It seems so trivial to be desiring nature and complaining about being deprived of it when people are dying. Don’t get me wrong I’m not about to suggest we should all start embracing nature and rural communities. I am originally from a rural community and I’m aware these people are not overly keen on city folk at the best of times let alone when they’re bringing virus’ with them. One of my childhood neighbours is currently bang in the middle of lambing season, well actually more towards the end probably, but just imagine one of them had caught it. Who knows what they would have done. That lamb chop has to come from somewhere. The other issues if a lack of local GPs and the only real hospital in the area is over half an hour away from my parents and while it’s a decent size it wouldn’t be capable of dealing with a local epidemic. I’m never one for pandering to official advice and while I have no real issue with people sitting in the park, I do with them moving around the country spreading this virus.

On the other hand I was looking at the local Facebook group for the village I’m in currently and someone had posted a photo of a camper van complaining about people coming to visit. It’s a tricky one here because this little village by the sea would be nothing without tourism which many people seem to have forgotten in their outrage. There were a few outraged comments before someone finally popped up and informed everyone it was a local guy who lived three doors down from him. It’s always a wonderful moment when outrage gets put back in it’s place. The post was deleted but subsequently replaced by a post replete with photos, complaining about dog poo in the park. So city folk, we clearly have enough to deal with already in these places. Perish the thought if Doris had stood in that, think of the outrage.

There was another post which drew my attention though and it was a meme for how the government was paying you to sit in your garden, drink beer and have a nice time, or something along those lines. So with all this talk complaining about people going into nature, it is important to raise awareness of all those without gardens, or fields, or front drives, or anywhere they can go outside without being accosted by some angry do gooder or some policeman with ticket book in hand. Can you imagine being stuck on the twelfth floor of a tower block, or in a one bedroom apartment, or in a flat share with flatmates you don’t like, or even in an abusive relationship. Nothing is ever black and white, lockdown is not the same for everyone and this virus is not the great leveller is has been described as. So share a thought for these people when you criticise others getting a little sunshine in the park or going for a walk. Just don’t walk too far into the countryside is all.

A Daily Update

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I’ve been making pizza today. Lot’s of pizza. I have made them before from scratch and it is very satisfying going through the whole process from start to finish. Today though I did it in my friends bakery with all the machinery and stonebaked ovens to put a slightly different spin on proceedings. We made about twenty as well and delivered them to some friends in the village. Seemingly all the takeaways in the area have closed due to this virus which is probably not a bad idea but there would certainly be benefits to all involved in keeping them open. My friends bakery is still open because it is essential, people need their bread and pies.

There has always been something satisfying about cooking something like pizzas from beginning to end and there have been a few times I’ve cooked them in wood burning ovens which adds to the satisfaction as you’re standing in front of a roasting hot fire and sweating, and it’s intense, and you’re drinking beer, and you’re in full on adrenaline mode and you feel alive. Fuck that’s good fun. Especially when you’re cooking for a lot of people. I miss fires, I miss sitting around them, I miss cooking them, I miss sourcing wood, I miss my axe, I miss that moment when you realise the fire has taken, oh I just miss it. There is a lot to be said for normal existence and working a job and living in a house, it’s been an interesting experience which has taught me a lot, but how I would like to be back in my van, on the road and making a fire.

There’s no driving into nature in these moments and I’m pleased that is the case. People shouldn’t be leaving the city and potentially taking the virus out to rural communities which won’t be able to cope. The talk today was of a couple from London who had come up to stay in the holiday home for the weekend. The locals are not happy, I’ll be surprised if they’re not lynched before the end of tomorrow. They may need a new holiday home after this. People are quick to forget though. Once this all blows over they’ll just become another couple of outsiders spending money and their faces will blur in with everyone else’s. That’s how it works.

That’s the thing around these parts. Without the tourists I couldn’t imagine how much of a dump these little villages would be. They’re so insular but if you’ve got cash, well fuck it you’re my friend. It’s like that everywhere though lets be honest. I’m not sure how I got here. In life as much as in this piece. I was going to tell you all about the pizza fun I’ve been having but it’s been a long day and I’m already three beers deep since I got in, realised it was late and sat down to write this. That may explain a lot of things. Oh I wish I was at the edge of a lake somewhere, parked up in my van and sitting all cozy around a fire. But if I was doing all that then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of making pizzas all day. We forget what we have when we desire everything else.