The Warmest Room

The old house had a larger garden, which was both a treasure to behold and a pain in the arse. Half an hour's lawnmowing felt like worthy work; goldfinches and greenfinches brought a certain vibrancy to the place. But there was always a border to be weeded, a bush to be trimmed, an edge to be tidied.

Nowadays in the new place there's more traffic noise, a postage-stamp lawn and a still-to-be-steam-cleaned patio. I can hear plenty of birds but they don't seem to want to stop over. Perhaps it's the magpies close by. Perhaps it's because there's a dead blackbird on the garage roof. But the sun room is south-facing, the hydrangeas look healthy and that patio will make for a decent BBQ space later this month.

And some things never change. It's the warmest day of the year so far and I'm sat in the warmest room, overlooking the garden with a cold beer. Bridgeport IPA is full of sticky bitter citrics, has a wildly aromatic nose that dies violently and just enough marmaladyness.

To everyone in the UK who, when the sun came out today, automatically thought of sitting back and enjoying a beer - here's to you.


  1. Dominic, Thornbridge2 April 2011 at 19:14

    I was unfortunate enough to spend my 29th birthday in the Bridgeport Brewpub in Portland, Oregon. It was a bit rubbish.

  2. I spent the day after my 29th @ The Kernel drinking good Dark Star-Maren. Not long ago now. I'm drinking Finnish smoke beer now and it's damn tasty. I need a cask of Jaipur for the summer.