An Ankoù
Landlord.
Having allowed the children to go hungry and unshod and the wife having to wear last year's fashions so that I could buy a couple of Inkbird Temperature Controllers, here we are on the 17th of August and the temperature won't even allow the fridges to cut in!!!! I've set my two fridges to ferment ordinary English ales at 19C, the last couple of days I've woken up to 13 and 14C respectively and a maximum today of 18. What's all this global warming nonsense? More like a new ice-age, I reckon. Waiting for Southern Brittany to become glaciated so I can start brewing lager!
Grump, gripe, fart, burble.
Feel free to moan and whinge to your heat's content. It's cathartic, whatever that means.
Grump, gripe, fart, burble.
Feel free to moan and whinge to your heat's content. It's cathartic, whatever that means.