On feeling grass between your toes

The sun is shining. Toddlers are running around the backyard, jumping on the trampoline, clambering over the mini slide, throwing sand from the blue clam-shaped sand-pit. There are tears every now and again, but nothing you wouldn’t expect from a bunch of 2 year olds. Mostly it is laughter that floats up into the cloudless sky. Eddie Bo eases from the stereo speakers, occasionally shattered by the screeching of little Molly hitting the hi-hat on the drumkit. She hands me the sticks and I sit down at the kit, bashing out a little 4-4 beat. The other kids come running in to the shed and start dancing in front of the base drum, clapping and jumping and laughing.

The adults chatter about nothing in particular, half an eye on the kids, but mostly just enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon in the springtime. I can feel the freshly-cut grass playing peekaboo between my toes. It feels good.

Bec; “I bought you a present.”

It’s a box of beer glasses. Nothing too fancy, just a gentle tulip shape on a short stem, but perfect for the pale ales that have been in the fridge the last couple of days, cooling down, yeast settling to the bottom, going through final preparations before Luke and I finally get to taste them. To me, this is our first real batch of homebrew, and waiting for this day has felt oh-so-long.

“You want a beer mate?”

Luke looks over with a big grin.

The lids are flicked off, and the gas rushes out whispering at me, kicking off the first wave of relief; the beer is carbonated. I gently tilt the bottle and watch the beer swirl down the bottom of the glass, bubbles rushing to escape. It’s a dark golden colour, darker than I expected, with a tight, generous head that puts a smile on my face. I take a glass out to Luke, but not before having a decent smell. I’d dry-hopped this batch with cascade and citra hops, but really had no idea what it would smell like. What I got was a big hit of passionfruit, reminding me of the Mad Brewer’s recent Hoppy Heffe. I smelled again, yep – sweet, passionfruit, yum.

“Cheers!”

Luke and I take a sip, then another, and another. Oh man, this is bloody fantastic! It goes down smooth, free of the homebrew tang that lingered in our first attempt. “Maybe it could do with a little more carbonation?” Probably. But to be hung up on the little details, analysing the minutiae like the beer nerd I will inevitably become, kind of misses the point I think. That’s not what this day is about.

This day is about having a bbq in your backyard, with friends who live nearby, watching and laughing as kids run around carefree, eating sausages in bread, and enjoying a beer that you made yourself.

Yep, this is a good day.