mmmm.... beer?

It’s All Points West weekend, which could have possibly been a big deal if I cared to give a damn. It’s been raining and the last reports are of 2 feet of water in front of the stage. I’m really glad I’m not there. The Beastie Boys are not performing since one was diagnosed with salivary gland cancer, prompting me do the math and come to the conclusion that I saw them perform live fifteen freaking years ago (Yes. Old).

So what is a jaded resident of Jersey City to do?

Well, make homemade beer of course!

Yesterday we schlepped to Brooklyn Flea – possible the coolest flea market ever – and purchased a real home brewing kit from the nice people at Brooklyn Brew Shop, not that plastic crap you get at Bed Bath and Beyond. Today, after searching high and low for a funnel (which, it turns out, is a difficult item to procure –who knew?) we set out to make our first batch of Grapefruit Ale.

There was a lot of simmering, temperature taking and boiling involved, but it was much better than standing in a mud puddle in the rain.

Yes. Making beer at home is better than getting covered in mud.

Now we wait 10 days for the thing to ferment before we can bottle it. In the mean time. I’m told yelling at it to ferment faster seems to have little effect. But we'll see about that.

And the pile grows

This past week was super busy and the last thing on my mind was laundry. The sweaters I washed over the weekend took forever to dry, since it's been raining every day. That means that now I have two sweaters that while technically clean, smell like a wet dog.

And when the Laundromat burns down – then what?

Our local Laundromat burned down this week – well, it actually drowned, because the apartment upstairs caught fire, so all the water the nice fireman used to douse the flames ended up downstairs. Until the water damage is fixed, we’ll have to find an alternate place to wash our clothes. Because most of our neighbors seem to lack have laundry facilities of their own, the other Laundromats are super crowded with the weekend crowds. So, time to get creative.

Today, the home method:

People have been washing clothes for as long as humanity has given up going naked. The amount of time covered by modern amenities, such as an electric washing machine is, in the grand scheme of things, infinitesimal. So, I decided to go retro with my wash.

I broke out a couple of buckets and a few items that absolutely needed to be washed. In the process, I discovered the following:

• The kitchen sink is too small to wash clothes
• The bathtub is too big
• I secretly wished I had one of those wooden washboards.
• Once you wash your clothes and roll them up on a towel to remove the excess water, what do you do with the we towel?
• Wet clothes don’t dry as well in the summer as they do in the winter

I had some brief thoughts of going to seek out a rock by a river, but then I strongly suspect that the river water around here would probably corrode my clothing.

Up next, doing laundry in the burbs…

Pretty in Plaid

Jen Lancaster, one of my all time favorite authors is coming to Manhattan today to read from her new book, Pretty in Plaid. As per usual, I will be stuck at work and unable to make it. You however, being a free creature, a master of your own destiny –yes you dear reader – do yourself a favor and get your ass to the Barnes and Noble USQ at 7 pm today for a rioting good time.

Neighbors

New people moved in the house next door.

The house where previously lived a mother who belittled her kids and had only one setting: screaming.

The house where the game of Uno (thug edition) would run very late into the night, with overly excited players yelling obscenities to one another, to the point we thought the bullets would begin flying at any time.

This is the house where the siding has been partially ripped down, to reveal the original wood siding (without the benefit of paint), and where furniture has found a permanent home on the front porch. The sidewalk remained un-shoveled the entire winter, turning first into a sheet of ice, then into a mushy wet mess. This is the scary house on the block.

Our new neighbors look like regular people about our age. People who wouldn't get in an altercation over a game of cards, or who would constantly call their offspring stupid. People who will not keep their furniture on the porch. They even look like the kind of people who will fix up the place.

I should be happy we may have normal neighbors. But I'm not. A wee bit part of me wishes that house were still empty, sitting on the market for months on end - simply waiting for us to swoop in and buy it and a bargain basement discount.

UPDATE: a screaming taking place outside my front window has deviated my attention from coveting my neighbor's shitty house. Ah... nothing like living in the Heights.....

A winter sunday in Manhattan

A man standing on the street corner with a live cat perched on top of his head. Neither man nor cat seemed to think this was anything unusual.

A man and a woman peeing in an alley. While public urination is not anything unusual in New York, an actual alley is, making this event quite unique.

Dispatches from Brazil: Vacation Brain

My mind has a natural tendency to wander. I can zone out pretty much anywhere and be in my own private bubble. It's kinda hard to explain where my mind goes and what it does when it's there, but best I can figure is that it goes to La-La Land. When I'm on vacation, my mind is like in La-La-Land-On-Crack: double the fun. Add to it a few rainy days with little to do and it's all about over.

When my mind is in La-La-Land, it thinks up things that seem brilliant/interesting/groundbreaking, even if only to me. Here are a few samples of what my mind pondered during the rainy weather:

* If you mix equal amounts of salt and sugar, would they cancel each other out, thus causing absolutely no taste sensation? (yes, salt is stronger than sugar, so the amounts would have to be balanced, but still - wouldn't it be like tasting nothingness?)

* What would happen if I barked at the neighbor's dog and tried to be as annoying to him as he is to me at 7:16 am every morning? (I tried this and it was a great deal of fun. The dog now seems to be afraid of me and the neighbors seem to think I'm crazy).

* Cats would make very bad turtles - that is if cats wore shells and attempted to swim under water.

Luckily, the sun is back and that means I can go back to working on my sunburn, and give my weird mind a break.