Burned

I am furious about this wildfire. Some moron let their campfire get out of control - in a spot less than 50 yards from an inexhaustable source of an amazing fire retardant - known commonly as "water" (the Kern River) - and now 50,000 acres are torched.

But why am I furious about this particular fire, and not the one set in Colorado under similar moronic circumstances? Because the McNalley fire is, as of 1:00 AM on July 25th, within 2 miles of my favorite place in the Sierras. It's a nice campground about four hours from our house - with a small stream that runs through it. It's not big - probably three feet across at most points - but it's got enough water year-round to support a wild trout population.

People who flyfish talk about their "home waters" - the river or stream that they know like the back of their hand, the place they can go and know where the fish are and what they'll rise to. It's not the closest trout stream to Los Angeles, but Salmon Creek is that place for me - and I would be crushed to lose it. Damn.

Next!

I needed to get my beer bottled before we go on vacation and Wednesday night ended up being the best time to do it. Of course I didn't get started until about 9:30, and so there I was at one in the morning cleaning the kitchen counters. (Insert lament re: the hard and lonely life of the brewmeister...) That's all the bad news, though. The beer is now happily self-carbonating in 28 22oz bottles on my utility room shelves. The final specific gravity reading showed about 1% potential alcohol content remaining. You might remember that the original product had about 7% potential alcohol, which means Worker Bee Weizen should live up to it's slogan ("Catch A Buzz!"), clocking in at a healthy 6% alcohol. Woo Hoo!