Whatever that means



I’m sure if I’d put my mind to it I could have used the unexpected four hour window between getting kicked out of the hospital (politely but with no room for doubting what was meant when the nurse said ‘…and we’ll let you get away’) and going back to collect M (a relatively minor thing – nothing to worry about) by doing some work. But I’d signed out for the day so no one was expecting any work. And anyway, there was all that wood cut up yesterday waiting to be made into little crates.

So, five crates later. Storage for 60 bottles of beer, which is nowhere near enough. But there’s plenty more wood to be cut up. A little over the top but if you’re going to go to all the trouble of making the beer in the first place, you might as well go the whole hog and give it something suitably rustic and home-brewed to live in. And I do like making stuff.


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This entry was posted on November 18, 2013 by in The Bank of Me.
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