Well, for the last month I have been actively engaged in what I have been calling "Jedi Training Academy." Some of you have been wondering what this is, precisely, I'm sure. It's been a lot of things: meditation, yoga, writing, and doing a lot of personal work on me. It's been very rewarding. One of the best times to do some of this stuff, though, is while hitting the gym, which I have faithfully been doing almost every work day at lunch - the schedule looks sort of like this:
Monday: arms, chest, and back: mainly lifting weights, but occasionally some other exercises, too - rope pulls, etc.
Tuesday: run a 5k
Wednesday: Same as Monday.
Thursday: Wild card day. Sometimes, it's taking a class, sometimes, it's core workout...sort of depends on what I'm feeling.
Friday: arms/chest/back again.
And just about every weekday, I'm waking up with crunches (60) and pushups (40-50) and a few bridges, or other such things (whatever moves me). I'm also getting a walk of about a mile and a half every afternoon, and of course, random bike rides on weekends, weekdays, etc.
Late last week, I hit the target weight of 225 lbs, and my waist is just under a 35. Now, weight is just a number, really, and if it's in shape, the number shouldn't much matter - but there simply exists no reason to be heavier than 225.
But this morning I saw something that I almost couldn't believe: I saw my reflection in the mirror, and I didn't see what was wrong. I saw what was right. I saw what was going well, what this past month has been doing for me, physically. I saw my faith being rewarded - faith in the process, faith in myself, and in this direction. For the first time ever, I didn't see the Fat Kid, or the Husky-sized kid, or anything like that. I saw what was buried under that image, and I liked it.
My physical fitness goals are not yet met, and so I will keep working - and that will likely see my weight going down some more - perfectly ok with that. I doubt I will ever see under 200 again, and since it's been since about 1991 since that's happened anyway, I've long ago made my peace with it.
Likewise, though, the meditation and yoga that I have been practicing (neither on a daily basis) have also been helping me - I have achieved a new level of balance and clarity that I previously could not - and I am just a beginner in these arenas. One area in particular is becoming more clear every day: daily writing. It's something I've tried to make stick in the past, but it never seems to work out right, mostly because I didn't think anything I had to say was worth reading. Frankly, that was a bunch of bullshit - and I listened to it for a long time. I'm done listening to it, and I am finished holding back the parts of me that I let atrophy.
I have learned much. Obi-Wan has taught me well. But, I am not a Jedi yet.
There's more to come from this journey. Stay tuned, and as always,
Thanks for reading.
Me
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Friday, May 29, 2015
Good Grief
Today, I read an exposition a friend of mine wrote, on the passing of his mother (RIP). It reminded me of something I heard once, a long time ago, and perhaps I need to be reminded again: Grieving is good. It's certainly never fun and never our first choice - it's probably not even in our top 100 choices. And yet, it's good. The loss itself - heartbreaking. And that's why we, as humans, have the capacity to grieve.
My friend wondered the same thing we all do: 'What could I have done differently, or better?" "What did I miss?" "How did I not see?" These are questions I know that I have faced in my own life, and I wish that I could tell you I have all the answers to them. But I don't. I don't think I'm even close to the answers for some of them. And, as much as we like and offer platitudes of, "He/She is in a better place," "They are no longer suffering," or even "It's better this way," the fact is simply that while the person/ situation is gone, there is still a profound feeling of loss that we experience. While those platitudes are true, we forget the one thing that is even more a necessary part of the equation: "I am still here, and I am suffering now."
And all we want in that moment is an escape - a way to not feel all the things we're feeling. Some people turn to their work, some to a bottle, or pills, or reckless behavior, and some sink into a depression that takes time - sometimes many years - to heal. Some never fully recover. It's sad, but true. And our society doesn't help us one bit - we're encouraged to put on a brave face, to bury the pain, to "just get over it," and "move on, already." This is the cold, hard logic that has taken over our thinking, and it's wrong.
No, it's not "wrong" in the sense that if you look at the logical facts, they are incorrect. Events happen, even unpleasant ones. I say it's wrong because when we do that, we are automatically discounting the essence of what it means to be alive. We bury it, we push it down, we hide it - all for the sake of "getting over it," which cannot be done. In the case of the death of a loved one - you do not get over anything. You simply learn a new way to live, without that person's presence. This is the purpose of grieving. It's an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to become a more whole person. Sometimes, it means looking at the loss and seeing the good things the person or situation presented to your life, and sometimes, it means seeing the bad things, too.
Lately, in my own soul-searching, I've looked back a lot at the pattern of events in my life, and I've come to a few unpleasant discoveries, some things I've repressed and put down because that's what was needed at the time, and I couldn't even begin to comprehend how to deal with them, As it turns out, I've never faced them. I've never grieved for the loss, and some of it still haunts me. One in particular comes to mind, when I was forced to grow up much more quickly than I should have. Without naming names - a health problem affected my family when I was in high school - and we were forced to stretch ourselves pretty thin in order to take care of it. The upshot was that I was left to take care of a bunch of household tasks, chores, etc that shouldn't have been mine. I shouldn't have HAD to deal with those things. Now, I DON'T BLAME ANYONE. In fact, it's one of my proudest times, because my family pulled together and made it through. My efforts were a large part of that, and that's just fine. But it doesn't change the fact that it was a traumatic experience for all of us - and I've only just recently realized this, and that I never have grieved for the loss of my awkward teen times of that era.
Now, if that doesn't seem like a really silly thing to grieve for, I don't know what does!! But, regardless of how silly it may sound (and really, who WANTS to get those awkward teen times back??) It's still a form of grieving, and I had never done it until recently. There's no one to blame - so there's no point in that. It was simply a rough situation, and it landed on us. And now, a little over 20 years later, I've finally called it what it really was: a trauma. I've made my peace with it, with what I've lost, and recognized it for what I gained as well. To say it wasn't "fair" is moot - but repressing it for so long, even though I couldn't really comprehend that's what I was doing, was me being unfair to me, and not allowing myself to grieve naturally, as I am built to do.
So to my friend, who said he doesn't want to hear a bunch of "I'm so sorry" comments, I say simply: Allow yourself to grieve, and do not apologize for it. Do not hesitate to honor the part of you that needs to heal and grow and learn. We are made to grieve. We are built for it. We owe it to ourselves to take however much time we need. Maybe you will find the answers to those questions that haunt you. Maybe you will find peace without those answers. I don't know. I only know that grieving is a good thing, and it's necessary.
Thanks for reading,
Me
My friend wondered the same thing we all do: 'What could I have done differently, or better?" "What did I miss?" "How did I not see?" These are questions I know that I have faced in my own life, and I wish that I could tell you I have all the answers to them. But I don't. I don't think I'm even close to the answers for some of them. And, as much as we like and offer platitudes of, "He/She is in a better place," "They are no longer suffering," or even "It's better this way," the fact is simply that while the person/ situation is gone, there is still a profound feeling of loss that we experience. While those platitudes are true, we forget the one thing that is even more a necessary part of the equation: "I am still here, and I am suffering now."
And all we want in that moment is an escape - a way to not feel all the things we're feeling. Some people turn to their work, some to a bottle, or pills, or reckless behavior, and some sink into a depression that takes time - sometimes many years - to heal. Some never fully recover. It's sad, but true. And our society doesn't help us one bit - we're encouraged to put on a brave face, to bury the pain, to "just get over it," and "move on, already." This is the cold, hard logic that has taken over our thinking, and it's wrong.
No, it's not "wrong" in the sense that if you look at the logical facts, they are incorrect. Events happen, even unpleasant ones. I say it's wrong because when we do that, we are automatically discounting the essence of what it means to be alive. We bury it, we push it down, we hide it - all for the sake of "getting over it," which cannot be done. In the case of the death of a loved one - you do not get over anything. You simply learn a new way to live, without that person's presence. This is the purpose of grieving. It's an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to become a more whole person. Sometimes, it means looking at the loss and seeing the good things the person or situation presented to your life, and sometimes, it means seeing the bad things, too.
Lately, in my own soul-searching, I've looked back a lot at the pattern of events in my life, and I've come to a few unpleasant discoveries, some things I've repressed and put down because that's what was needed at the time, and I couldn't even begin to comprehend how to deal with them, As it turns out, I've never faced them. I've never grieved for the loss, and some of it still haunts me. One in particular comes to mind, when I was forced to grow up much more quickly than I should have. Without naming names - a health problem affected my family when I was in high school - and we were forced to stretch ourselves pretty thin in order to take care of it. The upshot was that I was left to take care of a bunch of household tasks, chores, etc that shouldn't have been mine. I shouldn't have HAD to deal with those things. Now, I DON'T BLAME ANYONE. In fact, it's one of my proudest times, because my family pulled together and made it through. My efforts were a large part of that, and that's just fine. But it doesn't change the fact that it was a traumatic experience for all of us - and I've only just recently realized this, and that I never have grieved for the loss of my awkward teen times of that era.
Now, if that doesn't seem like a really silly thing to grieve for, I don't know what does!! But, regardless of how silly it may sound (and really, who WANTS to get those awkward teen times back??) It's still a form of grieving, and I had never done it until recently. There's no one to blame - so there's no point in that. It was simply a rough situation, and it landed on us. And now, a little over 20 years later, I've finally called it what it really was: a trauma. I've made my peace with it, with what I've lost, and recognized it for what I gained as well. To say it wasn't "fair" is moot - but repressing it for so long, even though I couldn't really comprehend that's what I was doing, was me being unfair to me, and not allowing myself to grieve naturally, as I am built to do.
So to my friend, who said he doesn't want to hear a bunch of "I'm so sorry" comments, I say simply: Allow yourself to grieve, and do not apologize for it. Do not hesitate to honor the part of you that needs to heal and grow and learn. We are made to grieve. We are built for it. We owe it to ourselves to take however much time we need. Maybe you will find the answers to those questions that haunt you. Maybe you will find peace without those answers. I don't know. I only know that grieving is a good thing, and it's necessary.
Thanks for reading,
Me
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Inspiration of a moment...
It was only a small part of this world,
a tiny place of land
that taught me so many things.
I knew who I was then,
though I never told anyone.
No one asked.
They all thought they knew,
and they left me alone.
I knew what was expected -
who they wanted me to be,
and I tried.
So many years wasted,
trying to be what I thought I should,
not who and what I was,
while inside, torn between
my two selves.
And I chose between the two,
never understanding
there was no choice to make -
for I am always both.
Now, a new choice looms in the darkness,
in that place that hides along the edges of the eye,
just missing it, each time I look.
Until I call it into the light,
name it, accept it,
absorb the hidden me I have long denied.
I am no longer content with the definitions of others.
I seek to define my truth.
I read some inspiring words today from my wife, and realized something about myself. The above is the result of that inspiration and realization.
Thanks for reading,
Me
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Not All Who Wander Are Lost
Wow - what is this??? Where is the black background? What is this bright-colored strangeness? Where is that all-familiar title? I don't understand!!!!!
Yeah, I know. I'm going to explain something to you. You might want to sit down - this is going to be a bumpy ride.
First, the name change. No more Fat Kid. Of course, I've always been large-boned, husky, solid, and yeah, I was fat, too. When I started this blog, I was fat. And weak. and I was very much a child, emotionally. The name made sense, and it was funny, and for the few Masquers who were around for that time period, "The Fat Kid" is an in-joke that lets us remember fond times.
But the thing is, it was a reflection of how I saw myself. I looked at the imperfections of me, and made my identity reflect those imperfections. I wore it proudly, and put on the "brave face" and laughed at those who told me, "But you're not fat!" saying, "Once a fat kid, always a fat kid." That's not true. To believe that it is true is to believe we cannot change, and we cannot grow. It is to believe that there is nothing greater than what we are right now - and if we believe there is nothing greater, then we cannot become it.
I have spent a lifetime in hiding. I've hidden who I am from the one person who needed to know it: me. I've run from the responsibility to do my best because I am worth it, to pursue the things in life that I want and need because I need and want them, and to accept all that I am and all that I am capable of. And frankly, I am capable of a lot. It's taken me a long time to recognize that. I could sit here and call myself a dumbass because it took me so long a time to discover it - but that's part of the problem. That's what the Fat Kid would do. And I can't do that anymore.
Now....onto making a better me. It means I'm going to have to drag up some pretty old stuff - some of which I told myself didn't matter, and some of which I never really considered a problem in the first place. Most of it will be bringing it up so I can simply let it go. Some will be tougher, I think. There's a lot there to deal with, and working on me is going to take some time. Finally, I'm in a place to do all the work that's necessary - and I want to do that work. It's actually the continuation of a process that started with a visit to the darkest place I've ever been.
This is the tough part. Many of you won't like reading this, and I don't blame you. I'm not that fond of it myself. Several years ago, my life was falling apart around me. Nothing made sense. I found myself standing in my workshop, a chisel in one hand, blade pointed at my wrist. In my other hand I held the mallet - to make sure I could reach. The plan was to wrap/tie myself up in plastic sheets, so there would be less mess to pick up. There would be no note. Nothing. And it all seemed perfectly logical at that time. It even felt right - because when you're in that place, everything is upside-down, from your thoughts to your feelings. I had a friend who made sure I never hit that chisel. Someone who made me accountable for a short time - but it was enough time. Not a scar exists on me from that place of darkness.
Since that moment, I have been rebuilding me - but I was doing it by trying to reclaim that which I'd lost. I wasn't focused on trying to grow, and make me a better me. I was trying to aspire to a vision, a place that I thought I should be, that would be my idyllic world. Parts of that vision were (and are) correct. But, only parts of it. The truth is that vision limited me, and held me back. There was no room in it to grow beyond a certain point. I've reached that point, and now it's time to redefine the vision.
It's going to mean a lot of honest soul-searching, and I've already started some of that. It's going to mean exploring some new areas of my life, and letting some old ones fade away. I don't regret them - they simply aren't helping me move forward. Forward is where I need to go.
This doesn't mean I'll stop riding - far from it. I won't stop writing - I love that just as much. But it does mean that what I write probably won't be comfortable to read. It probably won't be comfortable to write, either, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be said. What it means is that I can't let fear, perceptions, misconceptions, and other things stand in my way. And they won't.
Thanks for reading,
Me
"The old rules are crumbling, and nobody knows what the new rules are. So, make up your own rules." - Neil Gaiman
Yeah, I know. I'm going to explain something to you. You might want to sit down - this is going to be a bumpy ride.
First, the name change. No more Fat Kid. Of course, I've always been large-boned, husky, solid, and yeah, I was fat, too. When I started this blog, I was fat. And weak. and I was very much a child, emotionally. The name made sense, and it was funny, and for the few Masquers who were around for that time period, "The Fat Kid" is an in-joke that lets us remember fond times.
But the thing is, it was a reflection of how I saw myself. I looked at the imperfections of me, and made my identity reflect those imperfections. I wore it proudly, and put on the "brave face" and laughed at those who told me, "But you're not fat!" saying, "Once a fat kid, always a fat kid." That's not true. To believe that it is true is to believe we cannot change, and we cannot grow. It is to believe that there is nothing greater than what we are right now - and if we believe there is nothing greater, then we cannot become it.
I have spent a lifetime in hiding. I've hidden who I am from the one person who needed to know it: me. I've run from the responsibility to do my best because I am worth it, to pursue the things in life that I want and need because I need and want them, and to accept all that I am and all that I am capable of. And frankly, I am capable of a lot. It's taken me a long time to recognize that. I could sit here and call myself a dumbass because it took me so long a time to discover it - but that's part of the problem. That's what the Fat Kid would do. And I can't do that anymore.
Now....onto making a better me. It means I'm going to have to drag up some pretty old stuff - some of which I told myself didn't matter, and some of which I never really considered a problem in the first place. Most of it will be bringing it up so I can simply let it go. Some will be tougher, I think. There's a lot there to deal with, and working on me is going to take some time. Finally, I'm in a place to do all the work that's necessary - and I want to do that work. It's actually the continuation of a process that started with a visit to the darkest place I've ever been.
This is the tough part. Many of you won't like reading this, and I don't blame you. I'm not that fond of it myself. Several years ago, my life was falling apart around me. Nothing made sense. I found myself standing in my workshop, a chisel in one hand, blade pointed at my wrist. In my other hand I held the mallet - to make sure I could reach. The plan was to wrap/tie myself up in plastic sheets, so there would be less mess to pick up. There would be no note. Nothing. And it all seemed perfectly logical at that time. It even felt right - because when you're in that place, everything is upside-down, from your thoughts to your feelings. I had a friend who made sure I never hit that chisel. Someone who made me accountable for a short time - but it was enough time. Not a scar exists on me from that place of darkness.
Since that moment, I have been rebuilding me - but I was doing it by trying to reclaim that which I'd lost. I wasn't focused on trying to grow, and make me a better me. I was trying to aspire to a vision, a place that I thought I should be, that would be my idyllic world. Parts of that vision were (and are) correct. But, only parts of it. The truth is that vision limited me, and held me back. There was no room in it to grow beyond a certain point. I've reached that point, and now it's time to redefine the vision.
It's going to mean a lot of honest soul-searching, and I've already started some of that. It's going to mean exploring some new areas of my life, and letting some old ones fade away. I don't regret them - they simply aren't helping me move forward. Forward is where I need to go.
This doesn't mean I'll stop riding - far from it. I won't stop writing - I love that just as much. But it does mean that what I write probably won't be comfortable to read. It probably won't be comfortable to write, either, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be said. What it means is that I can't let fear, perceptions, misconceptions, and other things stand in my way. And they won't.
Thanks for reading,
Me
"The old rules are crumbling, and nobody knows what the new rules are. So, make up your own rules." - Neil Gaiman
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Poetry Challenge, v6.0, Days 29 and 30
Well, here we are, the end of another season of poetry. Thank you to all who read, commented, and shared this year's journey with me. All in all, I would say it was successful, and I am pleased with the product. I look forward to more next year, and maybe a little more participation...or start your own challenge (that may or may not involve writing of any sort!) The last post for this year is, of course, a two-fer, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed this last month!!!
The Artist
I wrote it,
made it,
painted it,
carved it,
poured my heart and soul,
my sweat and tears,
until the very room where I gave it life
reeked of the blood I spilled.
It's supposed to be that way -
a challenge,
a comfort,
a discord,
a statement,
that you might agree or disagree with,
but it doesn't matter -
it got you talking.
You don't have to "get it,"
want it,
need it,
love it,
or understand it -
you just have to know it was made
to make you react.
Namaste
We have words for everything,
a way to tell the world what we think,
to communicate grand ideas with a vocalization
that transcends the physical being
and lasts,
imprinted upon our souls
as an idea, a sound,
tangible and intangible all at once,
Words have meaning.
Namaste.
I look forward to the next year of growing, and invite you all along for the ride. Life is beautiful, and it's worth experiencing. May your lives be as blessed as mine!! And as always,
Thanks for reading!
The Fat Kid
The Artist
I wrote it,
made it,
painted it,
carved it,
poured my heart and soul,
my sweat and tears,
until the very room where I gave it life
reeked of the blood I spilled.
It's supposed to be that way -
a challenge,
a comfort,
a discord,
a statement,
that you might agree or disagree with,
but it doesn't matter -
it got you talking.
You don't have to "get it,"
want it,
need it,
love it,
or understand it -
you just have to know it was made
to make you react.
Namaste
We have words for everything,
a way to tell the world what we think,
to communicate grand ideas with a vocalization
that transcends the physical being
and lasts,
imprinted upon our souls
as an idea, a sound,
tangible and intangible all at once,
Words have meaning.
Namaste.
I look forward to the next year of growing, and invite you all along for the ride. Life is beautiful, and it's worth experiencing. May your lives be as blessed as mine!! And as always,
Thanks for reading!
The Fat Kid
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Poetry Challenge, V. 6.0, Days 27 and 28
Hi again, everyone -
We are finally into the home stretch, and it's time to really push through to the end of this year's poetic journey! Thanks again to all those who have looked it, read a little, shared some of your poems with me, and have joined me on this little journey. Poetry is good for us - it handles the tough things that are hard to talk about, and helps us make sense by evoking feelings, and giving us a safe and sane way to do so. Particularly in this troubling time, we need more safety and sanity than ever. That being said, it's definitely time for more words!!! Here's another that was sent to me and I have permission to share!
We are finally into the home stretch, and it's time to really push through to the end of this year's poetic journey! Thanks again to all those who have looked it, read a little, shared some of your poems with me, and have joined me on this little journey. Poetry is good for us - it handles the tough things that are hard to talk about, and helps us make sense by evoking feelings, and giving us a safe and sane way to do so. Particularly in this troubling time, we need more safety and sanity than ever. That being said, it's definitely time for more words!!! Here's another that was sent to me and I have permission to share!
MOISTURE...
Skiing snow, snowball snow,
Flaky soft to leaden weight,
Snowballs and snowmen
Enticing children of all ages.
Misting curtain of rain
Nurturing farm and garden,
Flooding monsoons, floating destruction.
Tears trickling down a dirty face,
Uncontrolled sobs,
Gut-wrenching heaves,
Tasting salt, altering sinuses, healing... moisture.
Hands of the King
There was a man I once heard of -
soft-spoken, unremarkable,
calm,
peaceful,
and where he walked -
kingly footsteps were sure,
steady,
forward.
He traveled far and wide across the land,
bringing his peace with him,
prosperity,
justice,
always working with his hands,
building,
healing.
We need that king today.
Nothing Changes
I tell you it's not right,
that you can't do this to me,
it's more than unfair,
it's not human -
I deserve better.
I am ignored, and nothing changes.
I am ignored, and nothing changes.
I get louder,
screaming and shouting at the top of my lungs,
go broke paying for advertisements and events
that challenge the ruling social order,
just trying to get heard,
get noticed,
get the attention of someone who matters,
someone who can do something about it -
I'm called a heretic, a problem, and nothing changes.
It happens to my friends, my family, my neighbors
and finally, to some poor schmuck who was
in the wrong place at the wrong time
who did something he shouldn't have,
or didn't -
and it boils over, erupts, and we're called criminals.
Because nothing changes.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Poetry Challenge, V. 6.0, Days 24, 25, 26
ok, so it's been a busy weekend for the Fat Kid: time spent in the workshop, brewing some homemade beer, and meeting new people at an event! Of, course, that means you get a three-fer today. BUT WAIT - there's more: over the next couple of days, you'll get a couple of guest appearances!! Yup, a couple people have taken me up on the challenge, and have written their own contributions. So, I will share them (with permission, of course).
First up, my mother, a retired English teacher and all-around pretty awesome lady, whom I've been blessed to really watch her blossom in new ways over the last few years. Mom, I love you, and thanks for taking up this challenge!!
First up, my mother, a retired English teacher and all-around pretty awesome lady, whom I've been blessed to really watch her blossom in new ways over the last few years. Mom, I love you, and thanks for taking up this challenge!!
OPPOSITES
Like a robot:
programmed to follow directions, accomplish tasks,
save time, unemotional, soulless, friendless, alone.
Quiet.
Like a human:
spontaneous, needy, growing, playing , laughing,
hurting, stifled, pent-up, frustrated, tired overwhelmed,
indecisive,
Choices?....eenie, meenie...pick one...just opt...
one day at a time...
Think I'll take a nap!
Meetings
Formality.
Proper handshake, look them in the eye.
So unsure,
not knowing what's lurking just underneath the surface,
searching for the story -
what brought them to this place?
where have they been?
what are they thinking of me?
And knowing they are thinking and feeling exactly the same thing
only makes it harder.
Touch
innocent gestures mean so much,
a hand holding mine for a moment,
the simple way a lover twirls fingers in your hair,
or leans into you in
just.
that.
way.
the way they move by you in cramped quarters,
and move with you when you dance,
a simple but overlooked language,
seen every moment,
understood by instinct,
known to all,
and unrecognized.
Beer
Grains and water,
make the mash,
heat, cool, repeat.
create the wort,
sanitize everything,
boil, hops, hops, hops, hops,
ferment.
Wait an hour between each step.
Wait a week.
Wait a week again.
makes one gallon.
Doesn't seem worth it...yet.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
what brought them to this place?
where have they been?
what are they thinking of me?
And knowing they are thinking and feeling exactly the same thing
only makes it harder.
Touch
innocent gestures mean so much,
a hand holding mine for a moment,
the simple way a lover twirls fingers in your hair,
or leans into you in
just.
that.
way.
the way they move by you in cramped quarters,
and move with you when you dance,
a simple but overlooked language,
seen every moment,
understood by instinct,
known to all,
and unrecognized.
Beer
Grains and water,
make the mash,
heat, cool, repeat.
create the wort,
sanitize everything,
boil, hops, hops, hops, hops,
ferment.
Wait an hour between each step.
Wait a week.
Wait a week again.
makes one gallon.
Doesn't seem worth it...yet.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
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