Coopers Stout Container .....

Ok, there's a stupid little play on words in there, but ye'd only have a clue if you're a member at Jim's. Failing that, just look at this thing....!

A picture paints a thousand words. This guys web site ~ Provenance Coopering ~ paints all ye need to know.

He makes these tankards in woods to suite all tastes. In fact, there's so many tastefully crafted single and matched wood examples shown there, choosing which type is the bitch. I got kind of lucky; One guy, on Jim's got a Walnut one. That prompted another guy to mention he'd gone for an Oak one.

Now, while wood is wood and doesn't conform to factory type 'sameness', I still wanted to look for something 'new'. I have quite a thing about Ash. But, Ash is a very light coloured wood. A wholly Ash tankard might look a little 'light'.

Zippidy Doo Daah! Our man, Roger, had thought of that. Thus he's producing these, nicely blended, Cherry and Ash ones. Caught my eye. I ordered one on the spot. Birthday treat to myself.

Only, here's a warning from Roger, the creator of these hand crafted gems; He prides himself on being able to send the tankard of choice by next days post. Only, what with the usual, xmass rush, now a flood of enquiries from Jims ....? The guy's doing his level best. He has to make them, after all.

Personally, I'm not fazed. I'll show mine off, in my local. But, I'm buying it for use at home. With my Home Brew. I Like The Best!

Bloody Back's Gone, Again ....!

It's at times like this when ye Mother, or Brother will drop round, isn't it? Take care of the little things that need doing for ye. Maybe get ye a bit of grub together. Feed the Dogs. Tea and sympathy. Eh? You, maybe. My old dear's long dead and my Brother's hundreds of miles away in another country. Out here I bite the bullet and carry on as best I can. No good feeling sorry for yeself, I can assure ye.

So, aside from a small pack of 'Interesting' Dogs ~ as in; No one else could get near them or, thus me anyway. I actually have this mad donkey and my beautiful Cob mare, Rosie. Donks is daft as a brush and just looks for mischief all the time. Rosie, of course, is as gentle as a huge feather in just about everything she does.

So; I have them in the pen, obviously. Field's a swamp. And I keep their hay in a small shed in the corner. They need a bale of that hay, every day. Come what may. Without fail. I have to get it out for them then.

In I come, hobbling about like Master Po, on my staff and make for the shed. Drama enough getting the gated door open. And there's the hay. How in hell am I gonna hump a fucking bale of the stuff out of here?!

As I always say to the Dogs; " Well: It needs to be done so I'd better get on with it. Cos there's sure as hell no bugger gonna come here and do it for me! ". Into this pokey shed I clamber. Look, balefully, at these bales. Take the strain on one and start screaming!

No. Heaving on the bale wasn't so bad. I was screaming at Rosie! Dear, sweet bloody thing had decided to join me in there! Trying to help out by eating her hay in situ. So, there's me, staggering about in the half dark, with my stick going through the pallets I'm standing on. Fucking great bulk of a horse stamping about in front of me. All I could do was try to keep my balance as I screamed at her to get the fuck out of there! LMAO!

How I never got trod on, collapsed in a heap of abject agony, or just plain had a heart attack, I'll never know!

Never mind. All's well that we manage to survive in tact. They got their hay ~ all be it dumped onto the ground in their shelter. From where they're strewing it amongst the shit as I type! But, they're fed. Even tottered back down there and gave them their supper of meal ~ dosed with worming paste tonight.

Now I have a pint of my Coopers Stout in front of me. Stove's lit. Dogs are settled down for the night. I wouldn't have it any other way ..... Well; Maybe aside from the whiff emanating from poor Chain Dogs cage. No Way could I have her out on her lead today! Dash of disinfectant will sort that out, presently. At least the pressure's off her bladder now.

Maybe, when I wake up tomorrow, this back'll be a bit less sore? If not? We'll just have to get through on 'emergency measures' again.

Yep. Life can sometimes be a tad trying, out here. But, it's seldom mundane or boring!

Big Ideas Brewing ....!

I had to run into town tonight. I found myself on my last legs regarding booze and baccy. My snus supply is due tomorrow. But, I can't say what time that might finally get here. I stay up late and smoke most at night. I didn't fancy smoking recycled in the morning.

And my keg of Coopers Stout is rock bottom. It clearly wasn't going to last me the night. besides which, the next keg only went in on the 15th. So, having had a week of Coopers, I'm now faced with two weeks on the Guinness, till That keg's barely ready to drink. Bad beer, and money down the drain then.

Now, yesterday, 16th, I put Two more 5 Gallon brews into Fermentation Vessels. (That's 'Big, White Plastic Buckets' to the uninitiated.) They'll be kegged and approachable in a few weeks now. More fucking Guinness I'll have to buy in the meanwhile ....! This, obviously, just isn't working.

I was explaining this to Tom as he drove me in tonight. Thinking as I was talking, as I do. And that talking / thinking it through led me to the solution.

Someone, on the beer forum, had long since mentioned my getting a fuck off great Fermentation Vessel. At the time, I'd agreed. But, then I got so busy I had no time for brewing and anyway, the doubt crept in; What if I fucked up the procedure and wound up with gallons and gallons of vinegar?!

Well, my recent hours in the kitchen, washing, rinsing, sanitising, rinsing and rinsing, refilling, making beer in a whole host of FV's and kegs changed my view. Fact is, I now realise, one can just as easily prepare one Huge FV as fuck about with two or three separate, smaller ones.

In fact, concentrating on one bigg'n would be a comparative piece of piss, compared with repeating such a monotonous procedure. Boredom leads to mistakes. That's how brews get ruined.

So, here's my plan: There's a guy in town, every Saturday. He sells 'Barrels'. Plastic ones. All sorts and sizes. Farmers use them for storage. Cut them in two for drinking troughs, all sorts. I'm going to see if he has a 25 Gallon, food quality one available. Such a 'FV' could easily hold Twenty Gallons of Coopers Stout. Enough to fill Four Kegs. And it'd still ferment out in about a week, same as five gallons would.

Do a single ferment. Twenty gallons. Fill four Kegs, inside about a week. Inside another week, get another 20 on. A week later, as the second FV of the Second 20 becomes ready to Keg, so I'd be able to start drinking the first of the first ferments beer. By the fourth week? I'd have drained the first of four Kegs. Three to go. Four more going onto the rack. I'd Finally be producing beer faster than I can possibly drink it.

That'd mean I'd be making a 'surplus' of beer. Beer which would be sitting around, waiting to be drunk. Get a Third FV on and I'd have Kegs gathering dust! That is as it should be. Purists reckon one shouldn't even look at a pint of Home Brew till it's been sat, 'conditioning', in the Keg for at least a month. I drink my Coopers Stout at two weeks, max. Economic necessity, on the one hand. It tastes simply fucking fantastic, even that young, on the other!

I need to sit down with a calculator and note pad here. Work out the exact and on going logistics of all this. I mean ..... What if I can get myself a Fifty Gallon FV? Knock out maybe 45 Gallons at a run! Fuck ....! That'd amount to One Days steady work. And over Two Months of superb Coopers Stout, costing me just cents a pint!

This needs looking into!

She's Ready To Blow ....!

No! Ye fukka's! My Coopers Stout!

And there was me, getting all unnecessary and worrying about my yeast. Or, had I rinsed my bucket out well enough after washing it.

Well, I just wandered back in there. Literally telling myself, " Just to be sure (to be sure) it's doing nothing. " Looked at the bucket? Nahh. Nuff'n. Approached it. Looked harder. Nope. Cracked the lid and really couldn't take in what I was seeing in there! A fluffy pile of thick, crusty looking foam! We Have Lift Off!

Ok. What's to teach anyone who's reading this and wondering about trying a spot of Home Brew for themselves?

First of all; If it goes wrong? It's not the end of the world and is Most Probably due to human error. Some silly little thing ye simply over looked to do. Not slinging half a crushed tab in the water can fuck ye.

But, if ye going to try from scratch? Ye'll be so damn nervous, ye'll likely be reading Jim's as ye go along. Nipping back in to check what that guy on the forum said .....

I'm a bit more experienced. So, see how I doubted my ingredients, rather than my method? Most of my method is second nature. I do what I've always done. It's like getting dressed when I get up. I just do it.

Only, I suspect the root thing is that most people live in warmer places than I. Thus their brews normally kick off at around the 20+F. Mine's likely languishing at 19F. What I set the heater for anyway.

Means I got a slightly slower Blow time. Now it'll ferment out a day or two longer than some. No worries. Now I have to think about getting another brew on, in the next few days. Idea is to create a rhythm. Work up to where I always have a keg or two of nicely maturing beer to drink, and something else coming on nicely.

Get another kit on the go before this one even goes into the keg. Then another .....

That is how it's done ;-)