Our kitchen has turned into a brewery.  Yes, that’s right!  I’ve lost my countertop space for I-don’t-know-how-long.  When my oldest son was small, I used to say that when he became famous he would credit his mother for all the scotch tape she bought for him…then it was for all the twist-ties she gathered for him (even raiding her friend’s hoard)…now it will be (or should be) for all the house-space she gave him.  There’s a basement & garage filled with medieval weaponry, and now a kitchen full of medieval brew.

He has been making MEAD.  The house fills with the smell of yeast for a few days, and the brew bubbles and churns.  Then there’s a period of slowing down, and quiet contemplation until it is bottling time.

I believe this kind has pumpkin in it.


This is elderberry wine, resting amongst the bagpipes in his bedroom.

The finished mead product:  Ancient Orange