It is beautiful out there right now especially when the sun is shining, and we have a lot more to look forward too; the cherry trees on the east bridlepath at the reservoir may be approaching peak blossom, but the ones on the west side are barely budding.

The forsythia are providing a golden contrast to the pinks and whites of the trees, there are still abundant daffodils carpeting the ground, and there are even a few early azaleas in bloom.

We limited our two weekend strolls to the reservoir and the great lawn this time, but will almost certainly venture up to the Conservatory Garden this week while the magnolias are still blossoming.

No fragrances, but the spice bushes are looking like they are ready to open up very soon.

This is a very lovely time of the year to be out in the park and since Covid locked us all away, we make every effort to spend a lot of time in the nature that we have in our public back garden.

And when the weather is a little more inclement, you can usually find me down the pub.

Just because the cask events are on a little Spring Break, it doesn’t mean that I have to completely abstain.

There has to be some benefits to retirement.

Come on!

I cashed in some of those benefits last Friday evening and wandered into JWF for a couple of pints; it was well deserved after a long day wandering around Maspeth and Bushwick while waiting for the car to be checked out again.

And would you know it, I happened to stumble over Old Glenham’s latest brew, Shire Porter, finally.

It had been hiding from me since it was first released earlier this year; I had been out of town both times that it had popped up previously, at JWF and Rough Draft, and it didn’t last long enough to wait for me.

But this time I nailed it, and so did Old Glenham.

Taking up the sweet spot between the dark mild and the stout, it was the perfect antidote to a busy week full of Passover meals (preparation as well as consumption), shingles shots (shudder), critters (walking, feeding and entertaining), cars (nursing and cursing) and taxes (urgh).

I returned to Jones Wood on Sunday to watch West Ham get knocked around and knocked out of the FA Cup (I had actually forgotten that they were still in it, so no real disappointment), and to enjoy the delicious results of someone else’s culinary labors.

A long, slow, stretched out Easter Lunch at the bar washed down with another couple of pints of the porter, a pint of the pale ale and a half of the Cornish ale when we killed the porter.

Just what the doctor warned me about ordered.

I have another busy week coming up this week; as well as the usual dog walking gigs, we have a large retired seeing-eye Labrador parked on our living room floor for a few days while my neighbor puts the finishing touches to her new forever home.

And would you believe it; there are more cask festivals happening this upcoming weekend?

I will be heading down to Philly for the Yards Invitational on Sunday.