Lagunitas
We went out for a few drinks with co-workers last night – to a bar in town that was refurbished some months ago. It's worth noting how rarely we make it out with friends any more – mostly because we can't afford it.
After getting home from work, jumping in the shower, and getting changed, we left the children to eat home-made pizza, and stepped out into the damp night air. Mercifully the rain held off for our walk into town, and in no time at all we arrived at the door of the unrecognisable bar – now festooned in rowing memorabilia, and re-branded as “The Oarsman”.
At the bar, I looked along an impressive selection of craft beers, and spotted something that stopped me in my tracks. An IPA called “Lagunitas”.
My cousin and Uncle used to live in Lagunitas (it's a small town on the north edge of the San Francisco Bay, if you're wondering). Actually, there's a much longer story about how they ended up living there involving missed ships, road-trips, weddings, George Lucas, Muir Woods, and all sorts of other twists and turns. I'm not sure if I've told that story before.
Anyway.
How on earth has a bar in a small town in Buckinghamshire, England, acquired a barrel of Lagunitas IPA ? I didn't get around to asking the bar staff, but I did drink two pints of it – more out of curiosity than anything.
I'm still wondering about it now. The universe plays strange games with us sometimes, doesn't it.
In other news, I begin a week long vacation today. I have no idea what I might fill the next few days with. Perhaps some running, very probably countless hours of chores, and perhaps some coffee in town. I guess we'll have to wait and see. You never know – I might actually start catching up properly with the various blogs I try to follow. Stranger things have happened.