In 2006, my then fiance bought me a home brew kit, sensing our new found freedom of no school or studying for boards, she appropriately guessed my curiosity in the art of brewing that magical elixir.
And like any zealot, I brewed with a furious purpose, turning out good brew after good brew. My two masterpieces were the Christmas Ale and the I.P.A. High gravity were these magical mixtures of hops, grain, and malt. The boys (certainly not men) at my bachelor party tea totaled my brew in favor of their water downed miller lite...as my dad says, "They just can't hang with the Jacobs".
And then I disappeared from the brewery map. Completely..for almost 2 years when finally my wife said, "You gonna finally brew me some beer?"
Two weeks later, I have one batch ready to bottle, and one in the percolator, and have found a newly awakened sense to brew. To me, brewing is working with your hands. It's like music, painting, cooking...all of which I enjoy immensely because it deals with making order out of disorder...my life's work. I find a sense of purpose of making a bunch of water, grains, malt, and hops turn into something magical to drink. Same as braising 40 clove chicken, learning a new song, or painting a new picture to hang in your house.
Next for me, picking back up the watercolors, music, and the fun hobbies I used to relish in a few years ago. I'd like to write a book, just can't find the storyline...
A snippet in the life of Matty, it's random goodness.
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