JacktheKnife
Well-Known Member
A True Story
{This post is 8 years old sorry, but it one of my favorites}
The Big Stash
I came home from the Hospital five years ago. My house looked strange like no one had lived there in a long time. I opened my five gallon buckets of LME {liquid malt extract} and saw that they were covered with white mold. I had 6, SIX! 22 oz bottles of ale left after my friends, who had keys to my house had drank my brewery dry. If I ever needed a beer it was then. Even the disability judge was told by his secretary: He'll just spend it all on beer! The Judge looked at me with a big smile, {he was ex military and had horses too} "After all the crap Jack has been through I imagine he needs a drink." The roofing business went to hell after 9-11 and there still is basically no money. I built up and run my old trap line and hunt hog. Built up the knife shop and started making knives for sale. I stay home all the time to save on gas, write short stories on 33 subjects that are dear to my heart. I grow my own vegetables, raise poultry and play my accordion. Make knives, cut my own hair and brew my own beer. For five years I have suffered abject poverty and deep sadness. My horse old Dolly died. I rode Dolly 26 miles in one day bareback. She was poisoned with arsenic by the same men who later almost killed me. The last remaining hound from my great pack old Ranger died too. Both my girlfriends dumped me.
When re-racking I would drink a gallon so that there is only four gallons to re-rack to the secondary.
Bottling... another gallon so there is only three gallons to bottle. Then I drink it all up before it even gets carbonated. It is a vicious degenerative cycle poverty is that if I have any ale at all it's never as good as it could have been. Life has been hard and unfair. But things are getting better. Today I was bottling some 'DME with S-04 yeast,' {'8 Lb Hammer'} and as I picked up four bottles out of the milk crate and placed them on their shelf in the brewery, I had a feeling of wellness. I looked up at 112 full, green 12 oz bottles, and down at 20 gallons in primaries and secondarys. About 65 Lbs of DME {dried malt extract} is on hand and knives are selling well so that every month I can buy another 55 Lbs. 55 Lbs will brew 7 batches of 8 Lb hammer. That's 35 Gallons and I can only drink 30! So, slowly but surely I am at getting ahead. My new hound Sandy may is my best friend and a good walker hound. She loves to ride in the truck and we are in love. I now am brewing ale faster than I can drink it. Of a five gallon batch 50 bottles go on the shelf in the brewery rather than 30. The brewery is filling fast. Soon I will be drinking ale that had been in the bottles 4-5 months.
God is Great Sabu...
Jack the Knife...
{This post is 8 years old sorry, but it one of my favorites}
The Big Stash
I came home from the Hospital five years ago. My house looked strange like no one had lived there in a long time. I opened my five gallon buckets of LME {liquid malt extract} and saw that they were covered with white mold. I had 6, SIX! 22 oz bottles of ale left after my friends, who had keys to my house had drank my brewery dry. If I ever needed a beer it was then. Even the disability judge was told by his secretary: He'll just spend it all on beer! The Judge looked at me with a big smile, {he was ex military and had horses too} "After all the crap Jack has been through I imagine he needs a drink." The roofing business went to hell after 9-11 and there still is basically no money. I built up and run my old trap line and hunt hog. Built up the knife shop and started making knives for sale. I stay home all the time to save on gas, write short stories on 33 subjects that are dear to my heart. I grow my own vegetables, raise poultry and play my accordion. Make knives, cut my own hair and brew my own beer. For five years I have suffered abject poverty and deep sadness. My horse old Dolly died. I rode Dolly 26 miles in one day bareback. She was poisoned with arsenic by the same men who later almost killed me. The last remaining hound from my great pack old Ranger died too. Both my girlfriends dumped me.
When re-racking I would drink a gallon so that there is only four gallons to re-rack to the secondary.
Bottling... another gallon so there is only three gallons to bottle. Then I drink it all up before it even gets carbonated. It is a vicious degenerative cycle poverty is that if I have any ale at all it's never as good as it could have been. Life has been hard and unfair. But things are getting better. Today I was bottling some 'DME with S-04 yeast,' {'8 Lb Hammer'} and as I picked up four bottles out of the milk crate and placed them on their shelf in the brewery, I had a feeling of wellness. I looked up at 112 full, green 12 oz bottles, and down at 20 gallons in primaries and secondarys. About 65 Lbs of DME {dried malt extract} is on hand and knives are selling well so that every month I can buy another 55 Lbs. 55 Lbs will brew 7 batches of 8 Lb hammer. That's 35 Gallons and I can only drink 30! So, slowly but surely I am at getting ahead. My new hound Sandy may is my best friend and a good walker hound. She loves to ride in the truck and we are in love. I now am brewing ale faster than I can drink it. Of a five gallon batch 50 bottles go on the shelf in the brewery rather than 30. The brewery is filling fast. Soon I will be drinking ale that had been in the bottles 4-5 months.
God is Great Sabu...
Jack the Knife...
