Silflay Hraka

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So during the compilation of the Carnival of Beer the wife was was timing contractions and thinking out loud, “I wonder if we need to go to the hospital.” Since the contractions were neither long nor regular, the answer was “not yet.”

“Not yet,” became “should have left an hour ago,” around one in the morning, so while SW got dressed I called our teenager baby sitter, who was fortunately only a couple of houses away.

“How would you like to come spend the night?” I asked when she answered.

She sounded shocked, and a little intrigued. “Who is this?”

Once that was cleared up, she ran through the rain–for great sheets of it had begun falling almost as soon as the wife decided labor had arrived–and took up position on our couch as we left. One of the Maenad’s arrived to relieve her a half-hour or afterwards. We found out the next day that sitter’s parents didn’t even notice she was gone, which bodes well for her social life in future.

I had the pleasure of runnig several extraneous redlights in downtown Durham on the way to the hospital, while the wife kept up her rythmic chant of “I don’t care what happens, I just want my drugs.”

During Ngnat’s birth she’d missed the epidural, as the staff was convinced that there was no way a first-time mom was going to give birth anytime soon, and had moved at a pacé glacial until they realized delivery was imminent. Scotty’s arrival was more well-anticipated, so she’d been able to compare the experiences.

Her recollection of birth with an epidural; “A day at the spa.”

As it turned out, the nurses moved as fast as they were able, but were unable to keep up with SW’s Indy-like birth tract, and Benjamin arrived without benefit of drugs. The staff came close, as the anethesiologist literally had the local anesthic loaded and ready for injection when they decided it was too late. SW let out a howl of disappointment that I’m sure brought fear to every soul in the waiting room down the hall, and I tried my best to look like I wasn’t laughing inside.

I don’t think I succeded. Three pushes later, less than an hour after we arrived, Ben made his appearance.

He was unhappy with things in general.

But at least he wasn’t covered in cheese. 8.4 pounds, 20.5 inches long. Intial Apgar score was 9. He was presented to SW, who was now much happier, disconnected from his network of tubes with a quick snip from our lady Korean doctor, and whisked off to the nursery for a bath.

Here he is later.

He has a great shock of black hair, though it might be hard to see that from the photos. His head must be covered at all times, lest all heat escape and he turn into a babysicle.

SW thought he looked like Ngnat. I though he looked liked a Mexican bricklayer.

“This is why the fence will never work,” I told her. “The minute we build it, thousands of illegal immigrants will begin sneaking across the border inside American vaginas.”

My oberservation was appreciated about as much as you’d suspect, though it did not stop me from extending my meditations on the theme as the opportunity arose.

While holding his latest grandson, the Reverend Sid observed that “this one, at least, did not look like Winston Churchill.”

“Nope. Thanks to affirmative action, one-third of American newborns are now required to look like Santa Anna.”

He was much more appreciative.

After his first feeding, Ben slept for 11 hours.

As to the matter of his blog alias, I’m thinking “Fluffy Mendoza,” as it reflects Scotty M’s naming aspirations for his brother as well as Ben’s rich Mexican heritage. “Fluffy Sanchez” was also considered, but rejected based on its euphonius similarites to certain references in South Park.

Never let it be said that I am not tasteful and considerate.

Postscript: Be sure to send me your LolBabies.

Because Bigwig is still at the hospital with Sainted Wife, I thought I’d announce the arrival of his youngest son, Benjamin. I’ll leave all the details to Bigwig, who has promised photos when he gets home. Congrats Bigwig and SW and welcome to the family, Ben. I look forward to meeting you.

Compiled with the assistance of Hennepin Farmhouse Saison

The beer is often referred to as a “farm house” Saison style, because the particular style was usually brewed in a farm house during the winter months to be served during the summertime.

A great beer that is complex yet still great to drink year round, and a great complement for a variety of earthy cuisines.
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Brew Reviews:Jolly Pumpkin’s Bam Biere Farmhouse Ale, Hacker-Pschorr Weiss Dark, Belikin – the beer of Belize, Lagunitas Sirius Ale, Sharkbite Red Ale, Keegan Ales’s Hurricane Kitty
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What he said. “It’s very dangerous to compare beer to Fairy liquid because it’s significantly more elastic than Fairy liquid,”
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It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the camp fire at night where the wild dingoes call,
But there’s nothing so lonesome so morbid or drear
Than to live in a town that’s outlawed its beer.
Potterites were bemused. So they did whatever any other suspicious person might do when faced with five legally-binding and confusing questions. They voted “no” to them all.

Not only did they refuse the Hitchen Rail’s application. But they accidentally stopped the two stores in town from selling beer when their licenses ran out. The last license runs out in about two weeks.
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Beer Podcasts: The “2:40″ Beer Tasting
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Virginia Beersicles are skating on thin legal ice.
If you’re at an Irish pub in Alexandria, Virginia law would prohibit bartenders from taking Guinness from the tap, freezing it and serving it to customers on a stick. But if you’re a restaurateur and take Belgian ale used for cooking, freeze it and serve it up as a treat, you’re in the clear.
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Ontario’s beer selection is not only the blandest in North America, it’s the most expensive.
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News From Mordor:
Bud Light becomes the official beer of wacking guys on the shins with your stick.

“A top innovation” may be one way to describe flavored malt beverages, but it’s not my term of choice.

Even Sauron has his defenders.
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A History, of sorts.
Foul tasting grain hulls floating around in unfiltered beer were a drawback until, in the mid-third millennium B.C., the drinking straw was invented. The fact that drinking beer through a straw (which was continuously getting clogged with nasty bits of glop) was considered, by our ancestors, preferable to straining solid particles out of the beer, supports my theory that we’re lucky to even have the wheel.
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Labels matter.
You don’t need a PhD to know that virtually every product takes the label they put on it very, very seriously. Having designed from the bottom up, several private label beers–at least one of which is still around — gave me a window into this process. We came up with names, graphics and stories and went through more versions than I care to recall. Suffice it to say it was a long and tortuous process. So I view labels much differently now than I once did. For example, almost all labels change, even the ones you don’t think do. Most large companies are constantly tweaking and updating their labels and packaging in order to stay competitive and stand out on the shelf. If you don’t do that, people will lose interest and no longer have a reason to pick up their products. If you look at a major label–Budweiser or Heineken is good for this–from year to year, you’ll see that minor changes occur all the time. Because they’re well-established brands, they don’t overhaul them in one go, but if you look at them in ten year increments, you’ll see that they have actually changed quite a bit over time. For less well-established brands, it’s usually a good idea to redo your packaging from top to bottom every two to three years so — okay, I hate this buzzword, too–that it remains “fresh.”
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Brew Debuts:
Coney Island Lager

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The qualities of a good beer store.
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Good advice
If you want an edge in impressing your date, order her up a Framboise and watch the delight spread across her face. Unless she’s allergic to raspberries. No one is delighted in the emergency room.
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Inte Bara Glogg!

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The previous Carnival of Beer may be seen here.
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The Carnival of Beer appears every Tuesday and Friday. If you’ve an item you like to see appear, let us know via bigwig AT nc.rr.com

First-born kid a tad brainier than siblings, study says.

Because I haven’t had a full physical in something like five years, my doctor suggested I have some basic blood work done when I last visited. I got the results in the mail the other day and one bit of good news is that I’m free from Hepatitis, HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases starting with H, S and G. I did test positive for Rubella, but that is apparently a sign that I was immunized at some point as a child.

The other good news is that my triglyceride and cholesterol levels are incredibly low. Triglycerides are 38, HDL is 40 and LDL is 76. Total cholesterol is 124. Not bad, not bad.

Except I think I can do better. I think my HDL (good) cholesterol levels can be higher in relation to my LDL levels. So I’m embarking on an effort to raise my HDL.

Things I can do to raise my HDL cholesterol:

• Exercise more. I haven’t been running as much as I am wont to do, nor have I been hitting the gym as I used to do. An easy way to make a difference.
• Drink a glass of red wine every night. I already do this three or four nights a week which is probably why my cholesterol is low already.
• Eat a piece of dark chocolate every day. Once again, I do this already. One square of 70% – 85% dark chocolate every day.
• Drink a glass of orange juice every day. The above site suggests I could see a 21% increase in HDL over a period of four weeks. This is something I don’t do so it could make a difference.
• Eat more fish. I get two or three servings a week.
• Eat more oat bran. I eat wheat toast and wheat bread several times a week. I guess this counts. I also eat a lot of granola cereal. I don’t know if that counts or not. That’s worth a 15% increase.
• Eat half of a raw onion every day. This is not something I’m doing. I don’t know that I can. But it’s worth a 30% boost in HDL. I might try it.
• Eat a lot more fiber. I guess that means back to the apple (or three) a day.
• Eat a lot of curry. Curcurmin supplements could raise HDL 29%. At this point, I’ve lost count of how high my HDL should be. It should be at least 80 if all this stuff works. I don’t think 80 is normal for HDL. I’d be a freak of nature.
• Lastly, I could resort to taking niacin. It’s worth a 30% increase in HDL. And it makes for such lovely stories.

Anyway, the plan is to go back to the doc in three months for a full physical and see how things have changed. I’ll be sure to keep you all posted.

I was just looking at baby pictures from a co-worker when I had this brilliant idea. I tend to add captions to the photos and decided LOL Babies would be a great and logical extension to LOL Cats.

Too late.

We just put pennies on the railroad tracks.

In which the grooming habits of gay Canadians are somehow viewed as indicative of wider male practice.

A while back, my cousin, a B.C. logger, attended a drunken university party in Prince George. Somehow over the course of the night, most of the male revellers ended up naked. “They were all laughing at me,” my cousin says. “I’m a mess down there and they all had these perfectly groomed little triangles.”

It’s not the party nakedness that makes you gay. It’s the paying attention to all the “perfectly groomed little triangles.”

More disturbing is the implication that the narrator was uncomfortable because he was not also the owner of a perfect little triangle. For God’s sake, grow a pair of stones. Just because you’re gay Canadian is no reason to be a conformist wuss.

Though, perhaps it’s the inability to grow stones first place that leads to a Canadian wax.

The main advantage is obvious, he says. “It makes it look bigger. It’s like the rock underneath the grass when you trim your lawn. Things poke through.

There’s an idea that will win the practice adherents. “Hair removal! Just the thing for the lesser-endowed man!”