Bee Ba Ba Nuzzle Pup!

Thursday was another one of our beer tasting sessions as both BrewDog and Shuffledog were having tap takeovers.

The BrewDog bar had four beers from the Liverpool Craft Brewery. Admittedly, they went on tap on Wednesday but we were somewhat delayed that night due to sexual shenanigans and we thought we might as well kill two birds with one stone on the Thursday anyway. Before the tastings, we decided to go to Caracas Grill, the new Venezuelan pop up restaurant that had just opened near the Corn Exchange and we weren't disappointed. For £10 we got a humongous sandwich filled with steak, pork snausages, onions and cheese which was so thick you could only eat it with a knife and fork. We also got some weird corn bread starchy sides which tasted funny in the aftertaste but were made better by the application of one of their three special sauces. The creamy avocado Mayo was divine and we were very pleased with the standard of food and quality of service.

We then headed to BrewDog for the Liverpool Craft Beers. Fortunately they had all four of them still on tap and after being quizzed about where we were the night before - and me responding we were busy having sex (we have that kind of relationship with the staff there) - they gave us third samples each along with a third of their ultra-low 2.8% Doodlebug beer which I preceded to drop due to a wonky table and me jabbing the glass with my thumb. It was around this time that our Aussie friend Brett, whose partner Jo was at a work function, text me to ask whether we were coming to shuffledog. We said we were in BrewDog but heading over there post finishing our tasters so he decided to come join us and sample them too. We all agreed that the beers were average and unspectacular before heading to Shuffledog for the Summer Wine Session.

Shuffledog, as it has more taps, had nine beers as part of their tap takeover but we had already had two. Fortunately, there was one from Cloudwater that we hadn't sampled so that brought it to eight, enough for two tasting paddles as they contained four each. These were probably nicer beers than the Liverpool ones, particularly those higher in strength, while we had a good conversation with Brett about Australia and how our beer drinking is really holding back our weight loss plans. Still it's a hobby and we had a great night, fortunately finishing our beers just in time to catch the last bus. We were a little drunk but nicely so, perfect for a weeknight, but it is frustrating (and yet understandable) that these tasting sessions are midweek. Still, with weekend plans of minimal drinking, it wasn't a huge sacrifice as we thought as we headed back home.

Our drinking does tend to go in peaks and troughs depending on such events, with little over the last few weeks. This has seen my weight drop slightly so moderation is the key. This month should be fine but next month could be tricky as there are two more tasting sessions in Leeds, my birthday and a trip to London and Gothenburg where we are aiming to visit five BrewDog bars and go on the Bermondsey Beer Run. It promises to be messy. Still, for now it's all about moderation, particularly as this week alone we have had to pay nearly £6000 on the attic extension. They have just finished the first week and everything seems to be running to plan, although having to get up at 8am is playing havoc with my energy levels. They are climbing into the roof through a hole in the tiles so the disruption to the house is somewhat minimal. This will probably change the week after next when they put the staircase in but right now we are hardly noticing what they are doing, and we are just leaving them to it.

The Pickled Puppy!

Pretty much last minute I decided to go back home to see my family. I hadn't seen my parents since August and my grandparents since April and as this was one of the few free weekends I'm likely to have before Christmas, I thought I would try and see them. I had pencilled this weekend in for a while but I did not know what state the attic would be in, but by Wednesday I realized that it would be fine so I made hasty arrangements.

I arrived on Saturday evening, when I had dinner with my father before going over to my grandparents. It's always nice seeing them although my grandmother in particular is looking rather frail. She also repeats the same questions and statements over and over, but she was delighted to see me, as was my grandfather who cracked open a bottle of wine as we chatted. The conversation was unusually dynamic and I was surprised to discover that my grandparents are rather liberal, more worried about neo-Nazis in Germany than Syrian immigrants, while also being reasonably pro-EU. I made the case as eloquently as I could and I think they will be voting to remain, meaning my entire family will be backing staying in the 28-nation bloc. Of course recently I have been thinking a lot about this and I really should stop letting this referendum consume me, but my job and freedom to move would be at threat so naturally this concerns me and I am a natural worrier. We largely talked about what I was doing - the attic, life in general - and "my friend" who I bought my house with cropped up, but I deflected all questions with ease. I haven't told them about being gay although I get the impression they would probably be okay with it, judging by their various comments on lesbianism which also cropped up during my stay. Still, they're 87 so there's no real point going there unless asked, so for the time being I'm happy to keep that part of my life under wraps.

After going to my grandparents, we swung by Middlesbrough to pick up my sister, who was travelling back from seeing friends in Newcastle and having to endure a myriad of pissed people, many of them Scots heading back from the rugby. It was great seeing her again too and once home, we chatted for a while, largely about her PhD which is frustrating her no end, before moving on to films and other such trivia. The same was the case when my mother came around on Sunday, largely to get advice on how to use PowerPoint but also to see my sister and I and have a tedious discussion on drains with my father. It was all wonderfully mundane as family life tends to be, while the usual debates and crises also were raised, particularly what the hell we are going to do for Christmas, a big bone of contention in our house (which is why I tend to avoid considering the whole festival and just stay at home).

After my mother left, my sister drove back to Sheffield, leaving my father and I to catch up for several hours. We did this while walking around Yarm - the town in which I grew up and a town I'm delighted to see now has not one but two craft beer bars - before we went to a nice country pub in Worsall (called The Ship) to which I went frequently as a kid and indeed as an adult when I visit now. Their menu has changed and has much less variety, while the place has been done up in a mish-mash style of bare brick village pub and white walled bistro but the fish and chips were humungous, not to mention tasty, and it was a great way to end my brief visit back home.