A few weeks ago (oh, jeez, how time flies!), we celebrated Abby’s ascent (descent?) into her late twenties with festivities that lasted for several days. On Saturday, we went to the Joseph Huber Brewery, America’s second oldest brewery (presumably behind Yuengling) and makers of the Berghoffline of beers, which are pretty common around these here parts. The best part:
1845: Huber Brewery founded
1848: Wisconsin gains statehood
I think it’s clear that they tend to have their priorities straight out here.
Anyway, we had gotten the idea to go from a $2 off coupon on the bottom of a six-pack of Berghoff Hazelnut Winter Ale, and when we discovered that the tour itself was exactly $2, it seemed worthwhile. Though Paul and Miller were supposed to join us, Paul decided he needed to do work, and Miller was nowhere to be found, so Abby, Martha, and I headed down to Monroe, WI, about an hour or so away. We found a shockingly good and eclectic radio station for the ride, and got to survey the snowy Wisconsin landscape as we went. We joined the last tour of the afternoon, which was led by a retired schoolteacher from the town who wore his meshback baseball cap (with railroader pin — I conjectured he was a model railroad enthusiast, and my compatriots thought it was not at all unlikely) high on his head and cracked a lot of overused jokes that were delivered with enough honest charm that they were actually kind of funny. Also on the tour were a couple of very Sconsie couples, the girls looking particularly Wisconsin. It was Saturday, so the machinery wasn’t running, but at least we could hear our guide. After the tour, we returned to the main reception room (a.k.a. the bar) and had some Bucky Badger Snack Mix and a sampling of complimentary beers. The sun was setting as we drove back to Madison, ready to hit the town for Abby’s party.
We met up at the Great Dane for dinner and drinks with an ever-enlarging group that stayed out until closing. The next morning, the family (minus Joe for some reason) headed to Sophia’s for some breakfast deliciousness. Udi spent an alarmingly long time having a tongue-sticking-out contest with the little girl who’s always there. I was inordinately hungry and finished a couple of people’s leftovers in addition to my own plateful. And then I was very, very full and content, and it was hard to do all the work I had to do since I had spent the whole weekend celebrating Abby’s birthday.
(The birthday continued when the gift Martha and I had gotten for Abby arrive in the mail: an electric kettle, which we presented to her at the next megabreakfast. Paul and I had chipped in on a massage gift certificate, which we gave her on her actual birthday.)
Miller edged closer to his late twenties yesterday. He, Paul, and I cooked up some steaks, potatoes, and zucchini, and consumed a good bottle of wine, while Miller sported the tickets-to-the-gun-show t-shirt we’d found for him at Urban Outfitters, given his addiction to the movie Anchorman. Then we went out to Mickey’s on Willie Street for drinks with a few of Miller’s friends. The real party is this Saturday. Pictures will, I’m sure, be forthcoming.