I don’t know how many of you are aware of this, but apparently when you’re in a relationship, it’s recommended that you do things together for the sake of
the children you don’t have your future.
In my opinion, this should mean things like not going to bed angry, or talking once a week, but I guess that’s not right so instead my fiance and I made beer together.
Let’s just stop there. People make beer. Were you even aware that was a thing? Shouldn’t it be… something you just buy? Evidently not, and since I’m a good part of this couple (or at the very least I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him be the better part of it), we started the process of making beer.
If you’re ever interested in making beer
that can immediately be consumed that you can drink a month later here are the steps:
Step 1: Give up trying to finish painting your nails because, again, you’re in a loving relationship and that means doing things together is more important than your hands looking nice.
Step 2: Tell the boy that you’re going to photo document the process and watch as he looks at you like it’s the best news he’s ever received. Ever. Oh, also put a bunch of water in a pot. Step 2 lesson: Beer has a lot of water so it’s healthy for you and will keep you hydrated and your boss should let you drink at work.
Step 3: Open this box of stuff that you add to the water to make it slightly less healthy – don’t add it all at once though. Apparently.
Step 4: Start to wonder how many freaking steps this is going to take. Also start to wonder how long it will be until your fiance realizes that you’re more interested in taking pictures than actually learning about how to make beer. Oh wait, no, Step 4 is putting flavoring specialty grains (sounds legit, no?) into a sack thing then add it to the water.
Step 5: Sweep up the parts of the specialty grains that got on the floor. Make boy take a picture of you sweeping to make it look like you’re doing more than just taking pictures.
Step 6: Drink beer! Seriously – he says it’s part of the steps. Unfortunately it’s not your beer because the world hates you and that won’t happen for weeks.
Step 7: Listen to boy swear at himself for forgetting something that he promises he doesn’t really need.
Step 7: Look at the sack in the water. This is an easy step.
Step 8: Look at more stuff that comes out of the box of goodies… listen to what they do and try to retain it later. Then, step 8A, have this conversation:
Him: Do you want to take a picture?
You: Will you hop?
Then take a picture of the hops and him hopping. Rejoice.
Step 9: Smack yeast packet so something else in the packet can mix with the yeast and then things happen. Realize at this exact moment that you used to have a job writing instruction manuals and how awesome you are at writing instructions.
Step 10: Start to smell good things and wish you had pretzels at your house. Have this conversation:
You: This makes me want pretzels.
Him: I’m sorry.
You: Why don’t we have any?
Him: I couldn’t have anticipated that.
You: Start to question the fact that you’re engaged to someone who couldn’t have anticipated that you would want pretzels with beer you can’t drink. Well, now we know for next time and you can make sure we have them.
Step 10A: Take sack out. (In retrospect, this probably happened a while ago but I’m starving and I was busy taking photos.)
Step 11: Seriously start to question this theory about doing things together as a couple. Add stuff that appears to be molasses but is not in fact molasses and look super thrilled and not at all like you’re questioning your life while doing it. Step too many: Add one packet of hops in. No photo so feel free to use your imagination to picture a person adding something into a pot of water and specialty grains.
Step 13: The unlucky step. Or, sit on the kitchen and look at your various devices because “The sucky part is you have to keep an eye on it because it can boil over and that is disgusting.” Then, as Step 13A, don’t get up from your spot because the dog will decide that where you just were is where she wants to be.
Step 14: After about
4 days 45 minutes, stop the water from boiling, then add the second packet of hops (but don’t feel like you have to actually hop this time since it’s been done). Then go outside where it’s wicked cold because your fiance hates you you need to pour the still very healthy water into a sanitized for your protection bucket. Bring bucket back inside and add water. (This picture is so you don’t have to imagine someone pouring water into a bucket because, honestly, how many times can I use the excuse “just imagine it” before someone’s all like She didn’t make this a photo blog! She made us imagine it! I’m calling the blog cops! Jerks.)
Step… sigh, roughly 400: Put the bucket that was sanitized for your protection in the pantry for a little while to let everything cool down. Then add yeast to the concoction that will allegedly someday be beer but right now is just making you want a pretzel. And pizza. And to be at a baseball game. And for it to be summer. While you’re adding the yeast think a LOT about how EVERYTHING YOU ADD TO BEER LOOKS LIKE PUKE.
Step 16: Do everything in your power to close the bucket sanitized for your protection so the yeast monsters don’t escape.
Step 17: Pour vodka into the airlock… allegedly this has something to do with killing bacteria, but secretly I think yeast monsters like vodka and it keeps them from attacking.
Final step: First, get really, really excited because this whole
insanely long, stupid really relationship-affirming process is almost over! Second, clear out space in your closet so the soon to be beer can ferment or whatever it does now. Last, get really excited the vodka will keep the yeast monsters at bay since you love your shoes and you don’t want anything to eat them.
Well, the actual final step will be a month from now when you can finally drink the still healthy water. But since that hasn’t happened yet, I’m just going to go back to painting my nails which I’ll be able to enjoy right away.