Pie, is my amazing daughter. Not only does she excel at daughterdom, she is a talented artist and now, a beer can label designer. I’m so proud, sniff…
Artisanal Brew Works of Saratoga Springs, NY, recently held an art showing that Pie exhibited in. She created and is Violet Rose. They liked her artwork and commissioned her to design a new label for their Belgian Quad, Whole Lotta Trouble (a fine brew if I must say so myself), and this is the design. I apologize for my poor cameratography, even the power of my computer editing tools couldn’t counter my skill. It looks much better in real life, especially when held within easy sipping distance. Artisanal rolled out the barrel for a release party and all the cases with the new label were sold out within an hour or two.
Just prior to the event, Artisanal released a new SIPA, Sour IPA, with just the right amount of pucker, which inspired the following haiku, here’s to you Artisanal;
Our SIPA is dank
So pucker-up buttercup
Have another drank
She will be submitting a label design for the SIPA too. That’s my girl!
Anyway, if you like good beer and good art, check out the links.
The photo is by: Mark Garlick/Science Photo Library/Getty Images
I was feeling a little wibbly wobbly, so I took a little time off. I’ve got a submission deadline coming up, it’s been busy at work, and, you know, Christmas ‘n stuff. I’ve been trying to keep up with those of you that I follow and exploring for new people to follow (D+ or maybe C+ with the curve factored in effort). What has stuck out to me is ‘Time’, as a theme or component of so many of your posts and, quite a few articles exploring time theory.
Maybe I’m just noticing it more because of the coming holiday and new year. I tend to get a little pensive at this time of year, and sometimes find it hard to stay out of the ditches and weeds that line my road. I always get through, sometimes a little dented and scratched, but whole and ready for new challenges.
Could be that it’s because I’m getting older. Every time I would complain that I was bored and there wasn’t anything fun to do, my mother would tell me to get out of the house and find something to do. She told me ‘time would pass by faster as I got older so don’t waste time complaining’, or something along those lines. A typical parent thing to say, I thought.
Seems she was right.
I figured that I’d have some fun and twist my mind around time. It took longer than I thought it would!
Time is a timely topic.
We spend our time worrying about time all of the time;
too much time,
not enough time,
is it the right time,
time to stay,
time to go,
Is this just a waste of time,
time well spent?
Is time ours to keep?
are we living on borrowed time,
or is there time aplenty?
Can we give time or steal time?
Is time ours to lend?
Is your time
and my time
the same time
sometimes,or all of the time?
Time and again we say;
time is precious,
time is short,
time wasted is
Forever is a very long time indeed.
But wait, time out!
If time is eternal
then time is infinite.
There's an abundance of time,
we are awash in time,
there's no shortage of time,
time has no end.
Does this mean time had a beginning
or has time always been?
I think it's time
we take the time,
if time is ours to take,
to understand that the time
we spend living our own lifetime
is but a tick
of cosmic time.
Will we ever know the true nature of time?
Is time a universal constant?
Is time a manifestation of our consciousness?
Did time begin when we became aware?
Will time end when we are no longer,
or will time march on?
Do we live in a now of time,
or on a time continuum,
soaring through time
on the arrow of time.
Look at the time
It's time for me to fly!
Instead I'll take my own sweet time
and row, row, row, my boat gently down the stream
merrily, merrily, merrily, taking time to dream.
The only thing we worry about more is the weather!
I call her Pie (and who doesn’t love pie!) which is short for sweetie pie. She used to hate it when I called her pie when her friends were around. That was during her difficult years, you know, middle school, high school early teen years, but she got over it. I didn’t do it to be annoying, she was/is just my Pie, and that’s what I call her.
I did do plenty of other things to annoy her because, that’s what dads do.
For instance, she didn’t know that I knew the pass word to her phone. She still doesn’t unless she reads my blog! So there we were on a hike, years ago, and she needed to use the portable facilities provided by the park. “Hold my phone”, she said. Like a thunderbolt from heaven the idea occurred to me that it would be hilarious to snap a photo of her as she exited the plastic privy. I did and almost forwarded it to all her friends, by accident of course. Not one to be outdone, she turned the tables on me the first chance she got, thus began the Porta John photo war that continues to this day. She’s a great sport and she gives as good as she gets!
Pie, George (her man) and I went on a Fathers day hike last June. She thought that she was taking her old man out for some fresh air. BUAHH HA HA! After we reached the top of the Overlook trail, where I took the previous photo, we headed back down and stopped at a pretty spot on the trail where George pulled a small box out of his pocket and asked my Pie to marry him. I guess she’s his Pie now.
Now it was my turn to play my part. I grabbed my belly and said that I needed to take the trail down to the beach/picnic area to use the bathroom. This was a different trail than the one we came in on. Pie reluctantly agreed, and that she too would take advantage of the facilities. I claimed urgency and ran on ahead. I didn’t stop running until I got to the pavilion we had rented for the surprise engagement party. Final preparations were made and I went to wait for Pie and George at the restrooms. Once business was attended to, I asked her and her new fiance to come over to the pavilion and say hello to a few people I knew. Again, she reluctantly agreed and griped about not wanting to hang around with a bunch of people she didn’t know. She also wondered why everybody was looking at us as we walked up the path. Suddenly, she realized that it wasn’t a bunch of gawking strangers, but a bunch of family and friends that loved her.
That was the best fathers day ever!
And now for her birthday limerick and one of my favorite pictures of my little girl.
This is my forever screen saver! The best part is she did it to herself!
There are many unresolved questions floating in the aether.
Intelligent design or Random chance? Captain Kirk or Captain Picard? Hamburger or Hot Dog? Ketchup or Catsup? Up or Down?
It was the last quandary listed that was the subject at the bus garage yesterday. There are two restrooms for us to use as needed. Both are spacious, single occupancy affairs that are used by all. Both are treated quite well by the considerate staff. A debate arose over the post use position of the seat, up or down. The opinion held by the ladies was overwhelmingly in favor of the down position. The gentleman were less opinionated about the position of the seat and as all of them are married, generally agreed with the ladies and didn’t offer any real convincing arguments in opposition. I wisely kept my mouth shut. My mind, however, played out the debate. It went something like this.
Gentlemen: We put the seat up so we don’t foul it, we dislike dirty seats as much as you.
Ladies: That’s all well and good, just put it back down after you’re done. We don’t want to sit on the cold (and dirty) porcelain.
Note: My wife uses this same argument on the rare occasions that I forget to put the seat down at home. Usually the language is more coarse.
Gentlemen: Sometimes we forget, besides, you’ve got two good hands, you can put it down. By the way, who doesn’t check the seat before sitting?
Ladies: A mostly nonpublishable response concerning the accuracy of short barrels and small bores that basically says,’Take better aim buster and clean up after yourself!’
Another note: I totally agree with that with the ladies here!
Gentlemen: Hey, we’re just trying to show a little respect, pardon us for being considerate.
As you can see, the gentlemen lost after the first round and signed their death warrant in the second. I guess men are no good at debates. Still the question remains for you to ponder, Up or Down?
And now for another.I call this;
Dead or Alive
No one thought to ask Schrodinger's cat how it felt about the damn box
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