And it came to pass that the Beloved Bearded Spouse (who shall also be known as BBS) spake unto his family: “I shall maketh a brew or two and all shall be completed before another day passeth. For mine storehouse is but empty of all but the most expensive brews.”
And his family, though great with patience, sayeth, “please, no!” and “why must it be when we are home?” and “but mine friends are coming over they will like it not!” And the beloved of BBS sayeth, “but hath thou not promised to bring down today a Christmas tree for a time unto decoration?” However, the calendar appointment prevailed, and the BBS went forth and brewed.
And behold, a great stink arose. And the neighbors and those who came to the place where it brewed sayeth, “What is this smell that we have come upon, for it hurteth our nostrils?”
And in the steeping of the grain there was great consternation, for the stove caused it to runneth over. And in the stewing of the malt, there was an aroma not unlike the downwind side of the Brew-wiser plant. And in the pitching of the yeast and the adding of oxygen and the casting of sugar, there came much foam.
And the family sigheth, “surely, it shall not continue forever.” For they were very tired.
Now behold, a new day cometh. And with the airlock and the keg, there was much bubbling. The contents of barrels doth bubble and make noise in the house. And there was a smell like unto a wild yeast in the air. And they looked at one another and sayeth, “when shall it make an end?”
And the BBS said, “when it is finished!”
So they went on their way and prayeth for a quick work of the sugars to be done, so that it would be potable. For verily, the beloved of the BBS said that yea, it had, when it was not well contained, tasteth like unto the straining of bad brew through dirty socks. And only the slugs in the garden drank it, for the humans could not.
And of the washing and putting away of equipment there was some. And of the piling of the rest unwashed there was much. And they still loveth one another any way…