Streaming wild like a ribbon in the wind
Tonight for the first time in more than five years, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I went to a bar. To be precise, we went to the Medford Brewing Company, which we have walked past for two and a half years without checking out despite its invitingly open-air set-up and outdoor seating. The salient facts are that I am medically limited in my consumption of alcohol and dislike most beers on grounds of tasting like soap—cilantro I get on fine with, but hops are a long-lost cause—and their bartenders managed to draw me a sour cherry ale and an Irish dry stout which I can't tell if I drank in the wrong order because one of them was astringently floral and the other ate like a meal, but I enjoyed both immensely and would drink them again, especially the sour cherry, which is inevitably about to run out for the season. I could barely get near the extra special bitter which Rob ordered, but did trade off tastes of my stout for his imperial porter which went by the inspiring name of Rude Panda. It was glimpsingly sunny through the warm overcast and breezy enough to kick fallen bits of blossom constantly through the tap room with all its windows open and both of its garage doors rolled up where I would have felt safe taking a seat if not for the volume of the music. I got into an unexpected conversation with another patron who had noticed my digital camera, approvingly. I had run back to get it so as not to miss out on the trees.
The local redbud is flourishing.
I have no clue what produced these delicate skeletons.
Ornamental cherry swag continues.
All around the neighborhood, really.
Ivy values were also impressive.
Rob, contemplative over bitter.
Me, thrilled by cherry sour.
In keeping with the logo, the canopy of the outdoor tables kept cracking like a sail.
Rob was impressed by his porter.
I appreciated the stout.
I should have taken some kind of conclusive picture of the experience, but instead we cleared out ahead of the impending pub quiz—after making sure to express our gratitude to the bartenders, who had actually given me tastes of both of my ales after I explained my situation with hops—and got our dinner from El Vaquero, whose quesadillas we need to remember are officially more than one person can eat at a time. We ate as much of them as possible on the bleachers of Playstead Park where a pair of commuter trains crossed on the tracks of the Lowell Line and walked home through the twilight with ice cream from CB Scoops. It was a far nicer end to a day which had begun when our next-door neighbor, not content with blasting his radio until nine o'clock last night at a volume requiring earplugs in our own living room, began power-washing his driveway this morning at the crack of legality. I feel it should be more than justified for me to respond with uKanDanZ's "War Pigs" (2025). The only cover of comparable quality I have ever heard is Bonerama's, but this one is in Amharic.
spatch and I went to a bar. To be precise, we went to the Medford Brewing Company, which we have walked past for two and a half years without checking out despite its invitingly open-air set-up and outdoor seating. The salient facts are that I am medically limited in my consumption of alcohol and dislike most beers on grounds of tasting like soap—cilantro I get on fine with, but hops are a long-lost cause—and their bartenders managed to draw me a sour cherry ale and an Irish dry stout which I can't tell if I drank in the wrong order because one of them was astringently floral and the other ate like a meal, but I enjoyed both immensely and would drink them again, especially the sour cherry, which is inevitably about to run out for the season. I could barely get near the extra special bitter which Rob ordered, but did trade off tastes of my stout for his imperial porter which went by the inspiring name of Rude Panda. It was glimpsingly sunny through the warm overcast and breezy enough to kick fallen bits of blossom constantly through the tap room with all its windows open and both of its garage doors rolled up where I would have felt safe taking a seat if not for the volume of the music. I got into an unexpected conversation with another patron who had noticed my digital camera, approvingly. I had run back to get it so as not to miss out on the trees.
The local redbud is flourishing.
I have no clue what produced these delicate skeletons.
Ornamental cherry swag continues.
All around the neighborhood, really.
Ivy values were also impressive.
Rob, contemplative over bitter.
Me, thrilled by cherry sour.
In keeping with the logo, the canopy of the outdoor tables kept cracking like a sail.
Rob was impressed by his porter.
I appreciated the stout.
I should have taken some kind of conclusive picture of the experience, but instead we cleared out ahead of the impending pub quiz—after making sure to express our gratitude to the bartenders, who had actually given me tastes of both of my ales after I explained my situation with hops—and got our dinner from El Vaquero, whose quesadillas we need to remember are officially more than one person can eat at a time. We ate as much of them as possible on the bleachers of Playstead Park where a pair of commuter trains crossed on the tracks of the Lowell Line and walked home through the twilight with ice cream from CB Scoops. It was a far nicer end to a day which had begun when our next-door neighbor, not content with blasting his radio until nine o'clock last night at a volume requiring earplugs in our own living room, began power-washing his driveway this morning at the crack of legality. I feel it should be more than justified for me to respond with uKanDanZ's "War Pigs" (2025). The only cover of comparable quality I have ever heard is Bonerama's, but this one is in Amharic.
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I am very into the idea of the sour cherry and also N and I split a pineapple cider the other night that was quite good! (Eli found a 20% off coupon for the local brewery in the local chamber of commerce egg hunt. Lucky for his tender years, they also sell soft pretzels. It was more than we usually spend on alcohol, by which I mean any, but we drank to the ruinous water bill!)
It’s nice to see you both, persisting.
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I hope to be able to take advantage of it this summer! Last summer was really not such a thing.
I am very into the idea of the sour cherry and also N and I split a pineapple cider the other night that was quite good!
Nice! I found out this evening that cider requires a different license than liquor or beer, but if the Medford Brewing Company begins to produce ciders on top of their sour cherry magic, I will patronize them even more. (Disposable income would be so much fun to have.)
(Eli found a 20% off coupon for the local brewery in the local chamber of commerce egg hunt. Lucky for his tender years, they also sell soft pretzels. It was more than we usually spend on alcohol, by which I mean any, but we drank to the ruinous water bill!)
I mean, it'd be either that or libations of blood.
It’s nice to see you both, persisting.
We are doing our best! Please persist likewise.
*hugs*
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Thank you! It's about the third time since onset of pandemic I have been at a restaurant rather than taking out from one. It was nice!
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The sour cherry ale was terrific! I've never had a Guinness and cider. Would try if offered, though.
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It was excellent!
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Thank you!
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Thanks for the link to uKanDanZ' video; that was excellent music!
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You're welcome! I've been playing it for everyone I know.
Pleased to see you!
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:hurries off to check whether The Hu has covered this:
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I love the sax so much.
:hurries off to check whether The Hu has covered this:
Oh, please report in the affirmative.
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Alas, I find not a trace of one -- they've covered some other classic metal, but apparently not this.
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We should start a petition.
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Thank you! It was really nice. It felt like a real thing to do with an evening.
*hugs*
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Thank you so much! I would love for you to teleport over. It was solid stout.
*hugs*
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Heroic.
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I think your delicate skeletons are mock almond. We had a bush of that at our previous house. It was very nondescript most of the time, but then it would bloom.
P.
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Thank you! It really was.
I think your delicate skeletons are mock almond. We had a bush of that at our previous house. It was very nondescript most of the time, but then it would bloom.
Should I be looking for its blossoms soon, then? Thank you!
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I love the shot of you with the cherry sour.
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And nice outdoor seating, too! Lots of benches and space.
(Maybe this will be the year we actually try eating on patios.)
(Godspeed. I have done so three times now and knock wood still safe.)
I love the shot of you with the cherry sour.
Thank you!
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Thank you! It was a lovely evening out!