Gagging for a Beer

 Still tested strongly positive yesterday so had to arrange for a drop of emergency groceries from Deliveroo despite the fact that I could have walked across the road and bought them far more quickly (and with much less irritation as it happens).

The boy set up the new little shredder (of which he approves) and shredded all the confidential waste that was lurking in a pile.  This wiped him out.

I half-heartedly picked at some work but concentration really isn't great.

We decided to attack the fridge beer - what remains. Moor PMA stood up well to  post-COVID tastebuds, the Wildbeer NZ pale was pretty good too.

For me, wine isn't great - it's really interesting what viruses do to your taste.

Today we've taken out all the rubbish and read the electric meter.  Only one trip in the lift but by the time we had done the deed, we were both knackered again.

This is the most frustrating time of these sorts of bugs - a bit like, many years ago, when the boy had flu that lasted for weeks.

For quite a lot of the day you feel not too bad - no gross symptoms of anything in particular - your appetite returns and you feel like you ought to be able to do things.

In fact, you really can't.

We're at that point now - we've managed a 10 minute amble around the block and now I'm done-for.

What I want - what I really, really want is to GO TO THE PUB.

Thankfully there are still a couple of cans left in the fridge so I'm going to have to make do with this can of Porter for now.

And then maybe have a bit of a lie-down

Keeping Positive

 Yesterday we decided that we needed to go and pick up our parcels from the Amazon locker.

We were both feeling a bit better and given the Locker is in a large hotel foyer we thought that it would make sense to get some fresh air whilst avoiding as many people as possible.

It felt strange to mask-up to get in the list again (and in the hotel foyer) - but obviously entirely necessary and appropriate.

Thankfully we saw relatively few people and we were grateful to be out in the sunshine.

When we got back we felt better for having stretched legs, and having collected a themometer (horse very much bolted, admittedly but there will be a next time) and a paper shredder (ordered before we felt unwell) to do a job we've been planning to do for ages.

I also actually started to feel like eating a real meal for the first time since Monday.

The boy had come back to a glass of red of an evening and offered one to me.  I realised I just didn't fancy it...maybe it was the sore throat, I don't know.  I did however think that a cool beer would be nice - as much to relieve the boredom of drinking fizzy water.

Unfortunately, the only beer in the fridge was some quite strong IPA, ESB or a porter or...a Big Drop Citra beer.

I declined the Big Drop and anything stronger or blacker so...another glass of water.

Once I'd cooked dinner I looked again at the beer offer and decided maybe I'd try the Big Drop after all. I know some people really like some of the 0% offerings out there but this is my fourth try (Harveys, Becks Blue, Nanny State precede it) but the best things I can say is that it does taste less sweet than others and so a bit more "grown up" but other than that, it is better than the others.

Ah well, it's hardly a serious problem - but I guess it's just a shame. I genuinely think that maybe you can't get an authentic brewed taste unless there's enough alcohol in there to produce it.

One of the very best things about where we live in Bristol is our immediate proximity to some of the best breweries and pubs you can imagine.  They're all even closer than the Amazon locker but it's just not appropriate to venture there.

More tea, vicar?

Inevitability

 We've been saying it was inevitable - whist also being concerned we were uniquely rubbish at taking lateral flow tests.

Apart from a nasty virus when the pandemic first hit, just before the initial lockdown, for which there were no test, we've been pretty healthy.

Yeah, the usual quota of sniffly "not feeling very well" spells notwithstanding we seemed to have escaped getting the C-bug.

When the boy succumbed on Sunday we had a slight suspicion.  He was shivery, headachy and under the weather - he also willingly took paracetamol.

The tests we had in the flat didn't seem to be working so I had planned to pop out to the chemist to buy some new ones.  Before I had a chance to do that, I started with similar symptons.  Instead, I bought some for next-day delivery.

By the time they arrived I was in full flat-out mode.

Test results confirmed.  We had finally caught it.

It's Thursday now and we're both just starting to recover.  He's about 36 hours further along the journey than me.  We're both gutted that we haven't been able to do our usual ambling and beering here but we've been feeling so unwell, that we're not exactly gagging for beer right now - and we know that from all viruses you need to give yourself a bit of recovery time.

Mostly, I'm grateful for our genes which seem to have to delivered us relatively robust defence of the disease, more so for the vaccination programme which has almost certainly made our symptoms more manageable - and the personal circumstances which mean we felt confident that taking to our bed for a few days wouldn't affect our ability to pay our bills.

Also firmly remining myself that it's not the same for everyone...but it should be.

Not about beer at all

 ...not even tangentally.

Fact is, the boy and I are unlikely to even venture out today since he's currently lying on the sofa with a temperature and a cough. We're both hopeful it's not the C thing.

With that rather unfortunate start to the day, it could have been a bit of a bust.

And then, I looked out of the window (remembering we're on the 10th floor) and saw a cloud of...wait...what was that? White butterflies?  Blossom? ...

...then check again...

and see a pair of peregrine falcons at about the same level as I'm standing, across on the building opposite. One of them is plucking a bird - probably a pigeon/dove...hence the cloud of white feathers.

They've been there on and off all day - sometimes relocating to other eyries.  Sometime spooking the other birds around as they take flight.

I missed the second kill of the day, too - but caught sight of one of them plucking his unlucky grey victim (probably a feral pigeon, at a guess).

I knew there were some peregrines in residence nearby...but we've never seen them so close.

Lets hope they're regular residents.

Makes up for the lack of a beer outing today.

Just Like it Was

 It was time to come back up to the Western Homelands.

Orchids needed a bit of TLC, I needed some time away from TRHQ and we're giving our staff more chance to show what they can do in running the place. There are beer reasons too, obviously, but they're more incidental than purposeful.

We reverted to the EBN-VIC-PAD-BRI route, having visited London last week to meet up with a friend (beer venues fine but not really worthy of revisiting) and finding it pretty much OK.

As it turned out, we ended up in Bristol on the same train as if we'd gone the more circuitous route - but, as the boy said, it's nice to have the last leg of the journey start earlier - and at the train's starting place.

Train was busy, station was busy, Temple Quay was busy so our flat was a little oasis of calm.

Nevertheless, being Thursday we knew it would get busy at all the good drinking venues so we didn't dither.

We arrived at the pub shortly before 5pm and watched (quite smugly) as the after-workers arrived en masse.

There are some vestiges of behavioural change in this pub - there are fewer chairs and tables to ensure people can space out; the door to the courtyard stays open to ensure good ventillation and, generally speaking, people weren't standing and drinking inside.  Other than that, it all feels much like it did - and that's all to the good.

Pretty certain we'll be heading up to Moor this afternoon because there's a reasonable chance they'll have a cask beer on and it's quite rare to find that.  Also, it's usually a bit quieter and less frenetic than other venues on a Friday evening.

I know we should strike out, and ring the changes a bit but, d'you know what? sometimes familiarity and routine is calming.

On the mend

 Soooo...whilst my knee is still not back up to speed, the rest of me is fine.

Last Monday, me and the Boy decided it was high-time we tried the new incarnation of Ninkasi.

I arrived from work and was greeted by two blokes and Jo saying "crikey! we were just talking about you". That was a bit weird.  I'm not used to people know who I am and I find it a bit disconcerting - but it is what it is, I guess.

I settled down with a drink and marvelled at the new space which looks almost exactly like the old space but with an extension. It's got a cool, grown-up feel and yet feels like somewhere I'd like to be (I don't tend to like "cool" places much).

I reprised the visit on Thursday with a couple of ladies we'd been working with. It felt nice to share the place with new people - and they seemed to love it too.

 Friday, we were at the Crown (new cask usually comes on then - and it was Prohibition.  Result!)

On Saturday I had to work at HQ and the boy joined me later but said he didn't feel very well.  He suggested getting a beer so we went to Beerarama.  We sat down with beer but the boy's heart really wasn't in it.  He struggled to finish his 2/3rd of a rye IPA so I shared it with him.

The guys who run the place looked a little concerned when we left after one, but they had plenty of other customers to take care of.

By the time we got home, the boy didn't want more beer - clearly unwell.

After a few days, he's starting to pick up and is already planning to go somewhere after our board meeting on Tuesday so things are definitely looking up.

I guess it heartens me to see that, for both of us, when the chips are down and we're not well - we don't drink. It puts alcohol firmly in its place for us:  an activity of pleasure and enjoyment - not a physical or mental necessity. 

In Praise of the Landlord

 The first pub landlord I knew the name of was John Landsdel.  He was the landlord of my accidentally-found local when I moved to a new house in Bristol.

He was, outwardly at least, curmudgeonly and didn't suffer fools AT ALL.  I once saw him tell someone off for ringing the "time" bell.

He was well known in Bristol Beer circles for being fanatical about the condition of his beer.  He was definitely that.

He once berated my friend for accepting a mistakenly-given cauliflower cheese lunch when he'd asked for chilli.  Pretty much any time we went in after that, he'd make a joke at P's expense.  To P it got a little bit tired.  To John, it never did.

He was a director of Bath Ales and, over time, his duties changed so they appointed another landlord.

John was a superb landlord - he knew his customers, he knew his beer and he didn't take shit from anyone.

The landlord of my current local is Andy.  Altogether a different kind of a guy.  Seemingly more gentle but, again, you absolutely wouldn't mess with him.

He is also fanatical about the beer he sells - so when he came up to us yesterday and said did you have the L***** beer, what did you think?  I still marvelled that he'd remembered we'd bought a couple of pints.  Not only that but he broke off the "Sunday Meat Raffle" to serve us and then had a frenetic 15 minutes of play your cards right to offload a £200 jackpot to a crowded pub. 

He wouldn't truck any argument.  He said he wasn't happy with the beer (we'd put it down to just not being our taste) - its taste and condition so he was taking it off and immediately replaced it with a couple of pints of Gun Extra Pale - even though we'd almost finished our pints. 

Our local is an interesting place.  A broad range of clients - from plasterers and welders, to those working in Arts administration and well - us in Tech Ed.

The Sunday meet raffle brings the punters in.  It's a loud and raucous time and Andy fronts the show us like a veritable Bruce Forsyth.

But in his other place - the craft beer, whisky and cigar bar near the train station he's like a different man.  (he's also like that when the Crown's quiet).  Passionate about beer - both the serviing and the drinking - and always up for a chat about it but much quieter.

We don't see the other driving force of the business quite as much in the Crown - Jo.   She does make her presence felt, though - from the styling of the place (there are always flowers), to the occasional food bits offered.  We tend to see her more in the other place.

It's hard to imagine two drinking establishments, run by the same team which are more different.

I love both places for what they are and they are that because of the couple that are driving it.

A rare skill indeed.