The Stuff of Life

For almost as long as I can remember I have enjoyed drinking beer.

When my father turned 40, my little brother and I helped serve his homebrew on our patio at his part, surreptitiously sneaking the occasional glass for ourselves. As teenager I liked the odd can of Tennent's Lager, though whether it was the beer or the alluringly attired women on the cans is something of a moot point, in the original sense of the phrase. When I was finally old enough to go to the bar and order my own drink it was Guinness that I chose, and I have a continuing love affair with stout as a result.

Yesterday evening I got home from work and spent a couple of hours in garden planting our autumn veg; swede, carrots, and chard. With a couple of beds filled with seed, only one drink could possibly go with dinner, beer.

Beer is always there, whether celebrating, commiserating, or just plain hanging out with mates. It is refreshment, comfort, or a well earned treat. Regardless of season, there is a beer for every day of the year.

Beer, you just have to love it.