Lessons in hooch-making

When the girls and I talked about firing up the still, I thought, "Great blog fodder, I can do a whole bunch of tutorials. If there's one thing I know, it's how to make w(h)ine ("h" optional)".

But, I totally slacked on my blogging duties when we started, and photographic evidence, while good, is sadly lacking in the instructional areas. OK, I admit it; I was rather pickled.

Today, I was not. Though I should have done it two weeks ago, I moved everything from the primary fermenter (aka bucket) to the carboys (aka glass thingamajiggers) for secondary fermentation.

So, let me start with a little bit of general advice about wine-making (or any sort of booze-making, actually).

There are several different kinds of alcohol (I'm not going to link it. Google is your friend). Some will cause brain damage, blindness or even kill you.

We want to produce the alcohol (obviously) that is the happy, sociable, flirty kind of alcohol. We want to make ethanol (I will leave the current production/supply/fuel/political issues for another day. Maybe never).

Making ethanol is very simple. Take some plant material, add bacteria and wait for the bacteria to convert the sugar in the material to alcohol. It's actually very simple chemistry (chemistry is way high up on my list of geeky things I love. Math will always be number 1).

In order to make ethanol safe for human consumption (and this is where my common sense steps in) it has to be prepared in a food-safe environment.

In other words, keep your stuff clean. Sanitize, and then make sure the sanitizer is rinsed away (in a clean, non-threatening way)

Whenever I do anything wine-related, I bastardize that old carpenter's rule to measure twice, cut once. I say, and I cannot stress this enough, sanitize once, rinse twice.

I have tools and equipment that have never seen soap. Soap leaves a residue, and normally, that's fine. But I don't want to influence the taste of the product. That's the tricky thing about wine.

If something is going to touch the grape, it will not touch soap. Ever. Instead, I use a product called Sani-brew, which is actually a mild, food-safe bleach.

I mix the Sani-brew powder with tepid water, consisting of ice-cold tap water and just-boiled water (your hot-water tank harbours bacteria, and not the good kind). Best to boil cold water.

And to rinse, I use cold water from the tap. It's usually, after running for a bit, about 7 - 8 degrees C. About the same temperature as your refrigerator.

This is how serious I am:

No soap. Or anything else. Ever.

Sanitizing away

Letting the aftermath flow away. No soap or detergent has ever touched those buckets. But let's not talk about how thoroughly I cleaned the bathroom earlier today.

Coming soon: very pretty, and clear, wine.

Jekyll and Hyde

I was rooting around in the basement this morning, looking for my bicycle helmet and panniers.

I also found these:

I wonder what these two very different pictures say about my personality.

Also, I wonder why I didn't find all these goodies last summer. I don't need to shop, I just need to use the stuff I have. Stuff that I love, which has been in boxes for the better part of two years now.

First sunburn of the season

And no, I didn't take a picture. Let's just say my back and shoulders are my favourite colour.

I do love nice weather on the weekends. I also adore having company (even though N bailed on me). I adore having company because I get up early and rush around, doing all my little chores. When N called, I had all ready accomplished most of what I wanted to do. That meant, the rest of the day was free to do as I pleased.

So I sat outside and finished some socks:

And worked the short-row heel on another pair:

Am I an idiot for having to do a short-row heel all in one go? If I stop mid-way, I cannot pick up where I left off. Ever.

Even though I should have been working on the yard, cleaning my windows or (gasp!) studying, it was a lovely, perfect day. Complete with smokies. Good ones (let's not discuss how smokies are mostly made from lips and assholes, mkay?).

The smell of sunshine

Have you ever noticed that sunshine smells? It's a good smell, naturally.

After a long winter of being stuck indoors, I have been making an effort to get outside at lunch. Every day. I even found a bench to sit on, only a short five-minute walk from the office (and not a bus stop bench. There's even a play structure nearby. And trees.).

Notice now secks-ay my new wip tubes are. I can almost bear the fact that they are red, not pink.

Since my office is in the bowels of the building, I don't see sunlight during the day - I work in concrete manufacturing. It's like I work in a bomb shelter (given my ever-increasing job satisfaction and the terrific amount of money I am being paid, this is a small, small gripe), and the whole day could go by without seeing daylight if I didn't poke my head out of my hole.

Every day, when I go back inside the building, I can smell the sunshine on my hair. Really. It smells, well, bright (can bright be a smell? I think so). I love it.

I noticed some lawn chairs outside the lab the other day. I wonder if the lab-rats would mind if I hung out with them occasionally.

And because it is so nice and sunny, I chose to bypass the watering hole tonight and have my Friday night drinks in my back yard. Lovely. So were the barbecued veggies and pork chops.


While I was sitting outside, I did some knitting, and some thinking.

Sittin' and knittin'

I swatched some yarn (I don't think I've blogged about it. Go see Black Bunny Fibers right now (spelling notwithstanding. It's an American site)). I've had it since some time last fall and it is now apparent that it has been waiting for just the right pattern. Or so I thought. It's become clear that the yarn had just been waiting for new needles.

Craptastic picture. Taken indoors, at night.

Look! Swatch!

I cast on 20 stitches, with 2.5 mm needles (yes, the new ones), worked a few rows of stockinette, moved down to 2.25 mm, worked a few more rows, moved down the 2.00 mm needles and worked a few more rows.

Then I took some measurements. As follows:

• 2.5 mm: 8 spi
• 2.25 mm: 8 spi
• 2.00 mm: 8.5 spi

I will now extrapolate these gauges into "# stitches / 4 inches" and figure out what it is I want to do. This is Carol's yarn. It will not pool. I'm pretty sure she forbids it to do so.

What r u doin?

It's barbecue season!

Listen up! Shortly the ce-ment pad will be open for:

drinking, eating, giggling and assorted chit-chat.

Not necessarily in that order.

A little lesson on Noro

I've been hearing/reading about the new Noro sock yarn.

There's some gushing love, some ambivalence, and some downright negativity. That's OK. I think the world would be a pretty boring place if we all had the same opinion.

You can put me firmly in the "gushing love" camp. Love the stuff. I am a huge fan of bright, bold colours in unexpected combinations, and Noro does that really well.

This should not be a surprise. I am known for wearing five different shades of pink at once, and I am very well aware that doing so is usually a bad fashion decision for anyone over twelve.

However, for those of you out there who are not a fan of outrageous colour combinations, I can understand why Noro could piss you off.

I present Exhibit One: Want a closer look?

Yes, that is a break, and it totally messes up the colour continuity. I have broken the yarn and will therefore maintain the colour continuity in the shawl.

This is why I wind Noro, even when it comes in a ball. I want to know in advance, and plan things accordingly. By winding it, I avoided motoring along and finding the break right in the middle of a row.

I have also heard criticism that the sock yarn is scratchy. Well, scratchy is a subjective thing, and my skin must be rawhide. Literally and figuratively. I can wear the scratchiest thing, and I can ignore the itch. I can also ignore people who don't like me. Hee.

However, I have dry and cracked skin on my hands, because of my love of the outdoors, regardless of the weather. Permanently chapped, are my hands. To the point where my hands frequently bleed. Because Noro is so loosely spun, it catches on my dry skin (isn't that a pretty image!). If nothing else, I've gotten a little better at moisturizing while I've been working on this shawl.