As I may have mentioned, I am a brewer of mead. The simple definition is ‘honey wine,’ but it is so much more. Mead was the drink of the gods of Asgard and Greece. It’s variations are so well known, they have their own names. Melomel, Pyment, Braggot, Metheglin… each with its own unique signature.
I have a contractor here, installing a wet bar/work station in my downstairs room. Soon, my brewing will have its own space, just in time for me to set up my favorite spring-time flavor, blueberry and lavender. It takes a year. There’s the initial cooking and mixing, and then the first ferment. The yeast bubbles and pops. I knock down the fruits, tasting and adjusting through first one racking, and then another. Once it stabilizes, I wait, allowing the yeast to slow and then to exhaust itself, and then, I rack again. It’s six, sometimes seven months to bottling and then, on a fine Spring evening, I’ll be opening that bottle to compliment lamb or chicken.
All my long-ass way of saying I’m pushing this chapter to you, and running off to other things today. My best to you at this, the turning of the year when Summer’s triumph turns, oh so slow, back toward the waning of the year.
Thank you, Ms Buffy, for your suggestions and crafting. I so appreciate it!
Chapter 5 – Slipping Priorities
The next chapter of Full Circle is available, and I thank you for your reading and comments.
I’ve had an inquiry asking what the young couple looks like. These are the pictures I have in my mind.
For Rick, I see a man still so young, a mix of his parents. And Brigid?
She is that sun-kissed girl, always just beyond your finger-tips, the lovely promise that walks just ahead of you on city streets, reminding you that somewhere nature still calls, dressed in greens and leafy places.
Thank you to my wonderful Ms Buffy. I send you all my best, wishing for a life that is both happy and less chaotic.
Yes, Gyllene, we move another step closer to the promise of your banner in this small story of family and vampires.
Chapter 4 – Falling
Spring has, once again, peeked, flirted and run. In the two weeks I was out of country, the trees went from early Spring to full Summer. I missed the long weeks of daffodils and purple hyacinths. Instead, we had two days of profusion, followed by 80 degrees and a quick die-off. The scientist in me ticks this off with increasing alarm, but the optimist sighs, hoping for a better year next year and eyes the catalogs, tagging pages with new daffodils to add to my garden.
But enough of that.
This chapter is about the Summer of a young man’s life, and the first stirrings of love. Unlike his Mother, Rick knew a version of normal. He grew up believing one thing about his family and himself. As he matured, all that he believed has been set on its ear. It’s not his Mother’s turning that has knocked him off balance. It’s the realization that all those things he took for granted have changed around him.
My thanks to Ms Buffy, who edited with such skill. My thoughts are with you. My best to Harlow Layne. That smile draws me forward.
My thanks to you who have decided to follow this tale. I hope it satisfies.
Chapter 3 – Seeds
When you walk long distances, your body begins to anticipate the march. You bless each morning you stand up, finding the aches in your hips and knees have miraculously resolved. You rejoice in taking that first step and not feeling yesterday’s hot spot or blister. You eat breakfast, check the weather, and start on your way, another day of trail and new discovery.
When you return to your prior life, that life that now feels less real than the one on the trail, your body struggles to forget.
That’s been my week. My hamstrings whine and my back winces. My feet cramp and my shoulders pull. “Where is the road?” my rebellious muscles sing to me every morning as I shuffle toward the stairs. They, like me, are disappointed that today’s road is nothing more grand than gardening and groceries, not vistas and sloping hills.
Thank you for returning to Full Circle. My thanks to Ms Buffy for her skilled massaging, and to Gyllene/Harlow Layne for the banner that pushes me forward.
Chapter 2 – Finding Ground