Another thing he found out is that the gas and liquid posts (and their quick connects) are different sizes, so it’s not a simple matter of just swapping lines; in order to work correctly, I’d need to have a third line dedicated for adding gas to the liquid post. Which means I’d have to spend money on a 3-way manifold to add that line.

In the meantime, I’m going to try to make it out to the homebrew store this weekend to pick up a second keg, as well as a length of gas hose, some clamps, a spare liquid disconnect, and a couple of adhesive thermometers for my fermenters.

I wish there was a better way to link images from a weblog. Hmm.

Technology lets us do things faster and more efficiently; why would we use that newfound free time to do more and more of the same old thing? I’m not just talking about smarter consumption of content like Johnson is– I’m also saying, fuck consumption.

I spend about two hours each night on the bed looking at my laptop before I go to sleep. Sometimes I’m watching TV and looking at the computer, sometimes I’m switching to my phone. And the whole time, I’m wishing I was doing something else–I spend eight hours a day looking at a computer, why the hell am I doing it when I get home?

So I’ve started a list of things—small things—that I can accomplish with the 1-2 hours of free time I have after Finn goes to bed. Things like spending non-TV time with my wife, reading, doing self-assigned illustration projects, cleaning my workbench, untangling the nest of wiring in the basement, (when the weather warms up) maintenance on the cars, etc. With each one of these things there are ancillary tasks that must be accomplished before I can begin, and those will be part of the list. I’m going to try and close the laptop when I get home and leave it until I get to work the next morning, unless I’m using it to create, not consume.

Addendum: I read this article abut the top five regrets of the dying, and I’m going to try and use it as a roadmap for the time I’d like to reclaim.

The weather was 60° and mild today, which for January in Maryland is kind of like a blizzard on the Amazon. Today was Father’s Day at Finn’s school, which the two of us have been looking forward to for months. Walking in, we were given our ties by the teacher, and I had Finn slip it over my head. Then she led me over to the play-doh table and she mashed shapes out of turquoise dough with three other children while the adults made small talk. After making pizzas out of construction paper and glue, we washed up and the kids began their day. We dads stood in back of the classroom and watched them run through their morning routine, offering quiet encouragement—hi there! turn around and sing!—in between muffled laughter—don’t look at me, look at the teacher!—and the Pledge of Allegiance. It’s pretty amazing how quickly that stuff comes back. I found myself with my hand over my heart halfway through “one nation under God” before I realized I was saying it out loud.

And then, just as soon as it had begun, it was time to leave. I got a big hug from Finn and told her I loved her, my nose pressed up against her clean hair, and then she was down on the floor and across the room, on to the next activity. I drive home with a hole in my heart the size of a 3-year-old girl—the one who jumps in circles by herself during the Potato Song.

My Daddy…
Favorite color is Green
Loves to eat ravioli for dinner
Likes to watch Bobble Heads on TV
Works on a computer at work
Comes home from work and eats dinner
Loves to play “tickle fight” with me
Love, Finn

My neighbor and I brewed up two batches of beer in his garage this afternoon: an Irish Red Ale (mine) and a Belgian Dubbel (his). It took us about four and a half hours to do both, which included using his swank copper chilling coil. It’s nice to have a batch downstairs in the fermenter.

This week has been a blur of sleep-work-home-sleep with no productive outcome. I spent about 3/4 of my work week in Photoshop compositing images for a client but we haven’t sold a concept yet. I broke up a three-week Scout drought for Wednesday’s commute, and was rewarded by a minor fender bender on the 395 onramp.

The keg of Dead Ringer IPA in the kegerator still hasn’t carbonated fully; there’s a hint of fizz in there, but not as much as I’d like. I have plans to brew with my neighbor tomorrow afternoon—he has two batches fermenting and a third to brew, as well as a propane-fired stove in his garage. He’s also my A/V expert, being an electrician by trade, so I’m going to finalize my television mounting plan with him.

I’m trying to motivate myself to start shooting pictures again. My commute has been a predictable figure-8 for the past three years, and as a result I don’t see new things for inspiration. The solution could be adding an extra ten minutes to my morning commute to find new routes into work, as well as more trips out with the girls to explore. I’m also considering the purchase of some 120 film to roll onto 620 spools so that I can shoot some black and white pictures of the girls.

Who is Robert Reich? He’s a very smart fellow. And he draws really well, too.