What are the best taverns in fantasy? Where do you imagine yourself sipping a pint in rather unusual company? The genre is full of these joints, though most, sadly, go nameless. Of course, some of these you’d probably just as soon avoid, like a den of merriment in Arenjun’s Maul, in Zamora.
I took MBW and the HA for an excursion yesterday. We needed to shake the rust off and see new horizons. So, skirting south of Mt. Hood, then along its eastern flanks for a while, until we cut due east through a national forest, winding along a narrow road, then north to the Columbia River at The Dalles.
Why have I waited so long to read The Drawing of the Dark? Perhaps it was for the best. Tim Powers seems to have constructed a story drawing on interests and predilections that I have developed and nurtured over the years. Had I read it as a teen, for example, it wouldn’t have spoken to me so fully.
When you have more than one thing to write about but little to link the subjects, start with a bombastic title.
Don’t leave the best for last. Or do. I don’t know, it’s confusing.
How about this? Boss: Falchion’s Company Book One is now an audio book. That’s pretty good new, I think.
This web log post brought to by the letter “A” for annoyance. And anger. And abashment.
Yesterday I spent a couple of hours in the afternoon at McMenamins’s Hillsdale Brewpub for the annual Battle for the Belt, wherein the myriad McMenamin’s brewpubs compete for the popular vote of best beer. Each one enters a beer. Trays full of four ounce pours are provided. We drink, we fill out a top three ballot. We drop our ballots in the box. Simple enough.
Last year’s beer jamboree was the festival of guava and mango. That wave has receded. The new hotness (to employ an antiquated Smith-ism and indicate how old and out of touch I am) is sours. This year was heavy on sours, goses, and beers featuring citrus notes.
Today — Saint Patrick’s Day, 2019 — was brew day. And what a nice day for it. First warm, sunny day of the year as far as I can recall.
Advice from a man who probably has no business giving advice: Remain grateful but beware contentment. There, that ought to cover Thanksgiving.
MBW, the HA, and I drove to the Oregon Coast Wednesday for an extended Thanksgiving weekend. The weather was appropriately Oregon Coast-ish: wet and windy, though we did enjoy occasional sun breaks.
Brew day! It has been a while. This is my first attempt at brewing entirely from mail order ingredients. I enjoy living out where I do, but to date I do not have access to a conveniently located home brewing supply store.
Last full weekend of July. And that means: The Oregon Brewers Festival. The family and I made the trek to the Portland waterfront. The HA frolicked in the fountain while wandered a few blocks away for a bit of frolicking of my own. The Festival has made a couple of changes that I did not care for. The organizers ditched the program booklet, substituting a single sheet. And they stopped providing a pen along with the tasting package. So I was forced to type in my notes on my phone with increasingly fumbly fingers. My notes follow a bit farther down.
