Language Geeking

One of my co-workers yesterday sent me this link, detailed the upcoming features of C#. I am actually happy with Microsoft for a change, and need to vent.
( No, really -- if you aren't into hardcore software geekery, run away. Now. Quickly. )

Language Geeking

One of my co-workers yesterday sent me this link, detailed the upcoming features of C#. I am actually happy with Microsoft for a change, and need to vent.
( No, really -- if you aren't into hardcore software geekery, run away. Now. Quickly. )

We Have Plorpage

msmemory put up a batch of mead on Monday (with me filling the important role of Skimming the Scum); the theory is that this should be soda-pop mead, hopefully ready for our post-Pelican party at Vinland Raids. (Y'all come by.) Since we had a bunch of bags of cranberries sitting in the freezer with their cells nicely wrecked, we tossed those in, producing a dangerously red beverage.

There's something oddly fascinating about watching mead brew. I always worry for the first couple of days, when nothing much is happening -- fearing that we got the temperature wrong, that the yeast didn't take, that mold will take over, etc. But once it's going, and you get that satisfying "plorp" in the airlock every five seconds, I find that I can just sit and watch it, contemplating the apparent stillness of the must, and contrasting that with the gasses growing inside it.

Okay, it's very much a near-midnight experience, when I'm not looking for deep intellectual stimulation. But there's something calming about the subtle but constant motion of the bubbles...

We Have Plorpage

msmemory put up a batch of mead on Monday (with me filling the important role of Skimming the Scum); the theory is that this should be soda-pop mead, hopefully ready for our post-Pelican party at Vinland Raids. (Y'all come by.) Since we had a bunch of bags of cranberries sitting in the freezer with their cells nicely wrecked, we tossed those in, producing a dangerously red beverage.

There's something oddly fascinating about watching mead brew. I always worry for the first couple of days, when nothing much is happening -- fearing that we got the temperature wrong, that the yeast didn't take, that mold will take over, etc. But once it's going, and you get that satisfying "plorp" in the airlock every five seconds, I find that I can just sit and watch it, contemplating the apparent stillness of the must, and contrasting that with the gasses growing inside it.

Okay, it's very much a near-midnight experience, when I'm not looking for deep intellectual stimulation. But there's something calming about the subtle but constant motion of the bubbles...