Perhaps because the Universe has a sense of humour, I suspect it does, I have something of an empirical streak in me. I’ve always been interested in what I drink. Its history, nature, and thus the quest for the best. Not THE BEST as in experts and pundits and lifestyle magazines for men declare, but my best, my favourite I should say. Okay, enough kidding myself, more likely that tendency is just a fancy excuse for trying a lot of different alcohols. I figure it looks a lot less disreputable to be engaged in a exploration of rums and the search for how provenance affects taste, at ten in the morning, than just swilling back a shot in your underwear and making pirate jokes.
Tag Archives: diving and chillin’
Why dive: part 2
This is much less a proper post and more a cheap excuse to show you a bunch of pictures. Also I did one of those a little while ago and some of you enjoyed it. So here are more reasons why dive, granted most of them only tangentially make any sense, but it’s one of those days.
One More Time Around The Sun
I have not posted as much as I like lately and not much about diving. My brain is a little scattered by a new contract, where I’m encountering a steeper learning curve than expected, or perhaps I’m a touch slower than advertised, jury is still out on that, but meh. Also we have not been diving in a while (I’m not ready for ice diving, doubt I will ever be) and most of you already know all of my scuba stories.
A different Kind Of Chillin’ Part Two: Sweet Lumberjack Food
Ultimately of course the sugar shack maple syrup making experience would be pointless if it wasn’t about food. Well, food and family. You don’t prepare 50 000 calories worth of dishes for yourself, at least I hope not.
Logging is a traditional occupation for the winter months if you’re a farmer, it’s also bloody hard work. It keeps you in shape provided you don’t loose any fingers, you should see the tough as nails 80 year olds around here. Even today it’s hard work and we have hydraulic splitters, gas powered chainsaws, plus quads and tractors to lug the wood around. I really have a hard time imagining the amount of sheer strength and hours it took a mere 70 years ago to turn trees into firewood. Lumberjacks were the original cross-fitters, but probably less douchey. I mean I’m sure they could talk about other stuff. Cheap shot, I know.
A Different Kind of Chillin’ Part One: The Sugar Shack
In a previous post I banged on a little in my ham-fisted way about the importance of traditions. If you have ever been to the northern New England or southern Quebec woods in the spring, the odds are good you saw some buckets hanging on trees and smelled the sweet sweet aroma of boiling sap in the air. It’s maple sugar time baby.