The Volatility of Fermented Ginger

And then the ginger beer exploded.  It was sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, in the dead of night, we were asleep, I was dreaming, nightmaring about some calamity befalling my youngest child, a mother's worry for her baby doesn't abate with age, when our peaceful slumber was shattered by a loud BOOM!.   It was quite impossible to discern the origin of the noise, since neither of us were conscious when it occurred.  To me it seemed like it came from outside, or the attic.  Had part of the roof collapsed perhaps?  Had the deck, though sound, given way to the incessant pull of gravity?  We checked the upstairs, the downstairs, the attic, the deck, all to no avail.  Everything looked fine, seemed fine.
We went back to bed.  It was around 3 a.m. and I found it difficult to return to sleep, as did Caty.  Finally, I drifted off,  right before the alarm went off at 5. 
We got up, did our morning routine.  Caty got ready for work, I packed her lunch, made breakfast, the usual.  Then it was time for her to leave.  The garage is attached to the basement, and the basement is also where we keep the cat's litter box and food, otherwise the dog will eat both.  Both of us went to the basement:  Caty to fetch her car and go to work, and me to tend to the cat.  That's when I saw that the lid had erupted off the fermenting tank with great force, and there was ginger beer all over one wall and the floor.  It had been a long time since I'd had a brewing explosion, and also the main reason why I quit making beer and started making wine - fewer explosions.  Foolishly I'd thought that making ginger beer would be less volatile.
Live and learn.  So far no explosions with the hard cider *knock wood*. 

Shaking the Family Tree

SS Cincinnati, Pre-WWI


 There are times when I pick up where I left off with working on my family tree and it's like falling into a black hole of time loss.  Though I shouldn't complain because I love the immersion in the past, and sometimes I find such gems.  The above ship is the one my Italian ancestors crossed the Atlantic Ocean on in 1913.  Later that same ship was refitted for use in World War I, rechristened the USS Covington and sunk July 2, 1918 by a German torpedo.

See how this can be addicting?  Now I've discovered that nearly all of my German ancestors are actually from the Alsace-Loraine part of France, though formerly belonging to Germany, and even more formerly to France, again.  The territory has gone back and forth, but it doesn't seem to effect the people of the region much as they have their own flag, customs, governing bodies, and German dialect.

Venus, Mars and the Moon

Venus, Mars, Crescent Moon, Pittsburgh, 2015


I would not have even noticed the celestial bounty Friday evening had I not been driving home from the auto shop.  It was a frigid night, subzero, and typically I don't follow what's going on in the sky during the winter months.  But, my wife's car was telling her that one of the tires had low air pressure, and better safe than sorry, she ran it in to the shop, with me picking her up.  That's when we both saw what we could clearly identify as Venus, and of course the moon, but it was a pleasant surprise to later discover that the tiny orange dot was actually Mars.

A Tree of Steel

Tree Sculpture, Pittsburgh, 2015


On Hot Metal Street on the south side of Pittsburgh stands the headquarters of American Eagle Outfitters.  Outside of the building is a steel tree sculpture by Kathleen Mulcahy erected in 2007.  It's representative of the city's past, and its changed and growing future.  So much ink and bandwidth have been dedicated to Pittsburgh's survival after the collapse of the steel industry, and I don't have anything to add to the conversation, no magic bullet as to why.  I've lived in this area almost my entire life and all I can say is that we're stubborn, and we don't mind being poor, if we know that through hard work we'll pull through.  Oh, and because of the endless hills you can only see so far ahead.  Maybe that metaphor becomes ingrained in our psyche where we only plan so much, then just trust that the next hill we have to go over doesn't drop us off a cliff.

Teacup Barbie

Teacup Barbie, Nude, Pittsburgh, 2015


I had a couple of delivery men here earlier today, and one commented on the naked Barbie in a teacup* on the mantel, saying how much he liked it.   And to think that woman at Goodwill tried to talk me out of buying this very teacup for a dollar because it's chipped.  The chip makes it!  Well, that and Barbie being naked, and the vacant terminal stare.
* The teacup was made by Thomas Ivory, Bavaria, Germany.  

Niagara Falls, A River In Winter

Niagara River, New York,Winter, 2009


This morning on the local (Pittsburgh) news they did a piece on people, tourists, going to Niagara Falls to see the partially frozen falls.  I've been to Niagara Falls in winter and it is stunning, but also bitingly, bitterly cold.  There's a constant wind fueled by the falling water, and there's no way to escape the wind and the spray.  It's seemingly everywhere.  The sight of the massive ice floes is impressive, and I'm glad that I've seen them, but I wouldn't go back, necessarily.  I don't feel a burning need to return.
In this photo a large flock of seagulls had just taken flight off the river as it neared the drop off of the American Falls.

Minus Six F

Polar Vortex, Connoquenessing Creek, Zelienople, PA 2014


It's convenient that I can use photographs of one arctic vortex to illustrate another arctic vortex since the exterior world behaves in the same manner when thrust into a deep freeze.  Today the sub-zero temps are prompting us to visit the museum, just so that we can get out and walk around a bit without actually having to be 'out'.  Yesterday we watched Harry Potter movies, but I've been told by a higher household power that we will not be doing that again today.  Bah.