Patron Saint

Clonmacnoise, Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors before COVID.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints; lifting a Lenten restriction on alcohol for just one day.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!

 

Radioactive

Speaking of radioactive stuff there is this.

A couple of decades ago a free radon detection kit came into my possession.  Some of my readers may know that radon is an odorless, colorless, naturally-occurring radioactive gas that is produced as a consequence of the decay of uranium and radium in soil, bedrock and groundwater.  It enters buildings primarily through foundations, footings, construction supports and plumbing.  

And like all things radioactive, radon is hazardous.  Prolonged exposure to the stuff is a major contributor to lung cancer.

Pondering the detection kit I figured I would use it on our newly-constructed house as opposed to our almost one hundred year old house.  The foundation of the new house was close to bedrock along with a high water table and the logic was that it was tightly-constructed and therefore more likely to trap or retain dangerous gases. I didn't give much thought to the fact that a certified Energy Star dwelling was also equipped with a whole-house fresh air exchange system.  I wasn't thinking.  I digress.   

As for the old house, it was constructed upon a shallow hand-dug basement, poorly insulated, generally leaky and drafty and to my mind if it was capable of allowing mice to come and go freely it was unlikely to retain any gas for very long; radioactive or not.  I wasn't going to test it for radon even if it was free.  

So I tested the new house.

Wouldn't you know it, the dwelling tested positive for radon.  A more sophisticated follow-up test conducted by a HVAC contractor revealed sufficient radon contamination to warrant remediation. 

So we had the contractor install a sub-slab depressurization system which uses a pipe and fan to draw radon from beneath the basement, via the sump-pump crock, and vent it safely outside.  

After installation a follow-up test resulted in no detectable radon.  And the basement smelled remarkably fresh from there-on.

Anyway, while outside and playing with the dog recently I happened to look up for some reason and absolutely had to take a picture of the stack from which our radioactive radon is vented.

To be clear this has happened before, yet is exceedingly rare and unusual; likely the result of a week of negative Fahrenheit temperatures.

Nevertheless, a passing thought occurred to me that if a person mixed a cocktail and used the ice from the stack would the libation have radioactive properties?  Glow in the dark perhaps?  In my lifetime all things nuclear enjoyed some popular culture notoriety after all....  

Litter Bug

Yes, a beer bottle was discovered at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, specifically at Challenger Deep, the deepest point on Earth. This discovery was made in 2022 during an expedition led by oceanographer Dr. Dawn Wright, who was exploring an unvisited area of the trench in a submersible. The intact bottle, with its label still visible, was found resting in the sediment, highlighting the pervasive nature of human pollution, even in the most remote ocean depths. 

It's a Heineken..... 

Pheasant Hunt

It was only a couple of weeks ago I was in eastern South Dakota chasing pheasants; Friday is a reunion of sorts as several of the usual suspects from that trip will find their way here for the gun deer opener this coming Saturday.  I figure smoked pheasant will find its way into our diet next weekend.

Anyway some photos from the the pheasant hunt...

Queuing-up to push some grass

 

  

And some post hunt images back at the outfitter's barn...

$2 Beers and $3 Hi Balls

 

And at our rental house.  For ten guys a terrific set-up with a couple of bathrooms, a bunch of bedrooms, bunks and kitchen. 

 

Fruit Of The Vine

From our walk we took a moment to check on our burgeoning vineyard - wild grape, likely Vitis riparia - Riverbank Grape or Frost Grape.  

Seems like too much work when I can just purchase Merlot by the box; nevertheless, perhaps there is wine-making in my future? 

Life is Good

Salted in the shell peanuts, my trusty sidekick and a frosty beer from our friendly neighbors to the north…. 

The Most German Man In The World

The Most Interesting Man in the World was an advertising campaign for Dos Equis beer featuring actor Jonathan Goldsmith as a bearded, debonair older gentleman with voice overs that were both humorous and outrageous. The advertisements began appearing in the United States in 2006 and became a popular internet meme. 

Dos Equis retired the character in early 2016 with a tongue-in-cheek retirement ad launching him on a one-way trip to Mars. 

They briefly introduced a new male figure, Augustin Le Grand, but by 2018 fully shifted tone to the Keep It Interesante campaign—emphasizing storytelling from everyday people instead.

In March 2025, Dos Equis released a new hybrid AI ad that combines generative visuals with human creativity. Industry insiders praised its slickness — though some pointed out minor quirks like slightly unnatural hand movement.  Naturally, there's a beer tagline at the close.

You'll find a collection on YouTube - here's a sample...... 

Are You Old Fashioned?

If states had official cocktails, as they do mottos, Wisconsin’s would certainly be the brandy old fashioned.  The original Old Fashioned is a simple cocktail dating back to the early 1800s, made with whiskey (often bourbon or rye), sugar, bitters, and a twist of citrus.  Why brandy and not whiskey, as is customary elsewhere?  Might it be a penchant for fruit brandies that Germans brought to Wisconsin in the 19th century?  

Could it be marketing?  Some say Korbel’s introduction of its brandy in 1893 at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago turned the heads of Wisconsin Germans who visited the fair and then spread the word when they returned.  American GIs stationed in Europe during WWII developed a taste for European brandies. When they returned home—especially in heavily German-influenced states like Wisconsin—they kept drinking it.  

By the 1950s, Wisconsin bartenders were commonly making Old Fashioneds with Korbel brandy instead of whiskey. They also began muddling cherries and orange slices, sweetening it more than the original, and adding options like: Sweet (with 7Up or Sprite), Sour (with Squirt or sour mix) or Press (half 7Up, half seltzer water).

Nowadays,  Old Fashioned's go hand in hand with another beloved regional institution, the supper club. This is the cocktail so prevalent as an evening starter that bartenders can practically mix them with their eyes closed.

Fast Facts -  Over 50% of Korbel's brandy is consumed in Wisconsin alone, even though it's produced in California.  On a per capita basis, Wisconsin's brandy consumption is dramatically higher than any other state.

Pro Tip - Looking for a uniquely Wisconsin spin?  Sweeten your Old Fashioned with maple syrup. 

Porch Beer

After working in the garden it's always good to retire to the porch with my sidekick to enjoy a bowl of salted in the shell porch peanuts, a frosty Canadian lager and watch a spring thunder storm roll-in.

It's quitting time after-all.

Raising a toast to our friendly neighbors to the north!

On This Day In History

Spanish for the Fifth of May - Cinco do Mayo commemorates the Battle of Puebla which took place on this day in 1862.

Following on the Mexican-American War (1846-48) and the Reform War (1858-61) the country of Mexico was a social, political and financial basket case.   Owing money to French, British and Spanish financiers Mexican President Benito Juárez suspended payment leading to a declaration of war by the three countries.  Britain and Spain negotiated a settlement and Napoleon III used the opportunity as a pretext to invade Mexico and install Archduke Maximilian (of Austria) as a puppet monarchy. 

A ragtag Mexican force of 2,000 poorly trained and equipped soldiers led by General Ignacio Zaragoza engaged in a pitched battle near Mexico City against a professional French force of 6,000.  Despite being outnumbered and outgunned the Mexican forces prevailed in a decisive victory.

France ultimately occupied Mexico City so this was not a strategic victory; nevertheless,  General Zaragoza became a national hero and the defeat of the French at Puebla became a source of national pride in the Mexican resistance.

This day is not to be mistaken for Mexico's Independence Day - September 16, 1810 - but as a point of national pride it has evolved into a cultural celebration including food, parades, music and fireworks.  Mexican Americans celebrate it as a symbol of ethnic solidarity. 

As for me, I'll likely enjoy a frosty cerveza at the end of the day and raise a toast to my brown-skinned, Spanish-speaking compadres who keep the dairy operations in the neighborhood and Green Bay meat-packing plants running smoothly.

Salud!    

Bachelor Life

Doggo and I are roughing it for a couple of day while Jill is away. 

This evening we enjoyed porch peanuts and a frosty import.

Fresh sautéed mushrooms.

Steak and baked potato - including snipped chives from the kitchen garden.

And a beautiful peninsula sunset for for desert....

 

 

Pretty good chow if you can get it......

Molson Canadian

OK.

One more....

Molson Canadian

This brought a smile to my lips.  Hope you get a chuckle too.

Cheers!

A Wee Bit O'Blarney

Clonmacnoise, Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors before COVID.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!

Is There Beer In Heaven?

One of the age-old existential of questions of countless generations of our forebears all the way back to the origins of fermented malt beverages has been:

Is there beer in heaven?

I'm here to offer evidence affirming its existence.  Depending-upon your belief traditions. 

The Vikings held firm to the belief that a goat dispensing endless beer awaited them in heaven.

It's true.  The belief anyway.

According to Norse mythology, the Vikings believed in a celestial goat named Heiðrún, who resided in Valhalla, the grand hall of fallen warriors. Heiðrún fed on the leaves of the sacred tree Læraðr, and from her udders flowed an endless supply of mead (a honey-based alcoholic drink), which sustained the warriors who had died in battle.

So, while it wasn't exactly beer, it was a never-ending supply of mead—pretty close! This endless feast and drink were part of the reward for warriors who fought bravely and earned a place in Valhalla.

The national Museum of Denmark describes current knowledge of Viking's pre-Chrisianity belief system as a patchwork quilt of information.  However, the two most most renowned sources on the old religion are the collection of poems on Norse gods and heroes in the Poetic (or Elder) Edda and the retelling of the Nordic myths in the Prose (or Younger) Edda.  The latter was written by Snorri Sturluson around the year 1220 AD.  Both describe Heiðrún, the goat in heaven.

Of note is the fact that is was Viking influence, during their rule over the Emerald Isle, that Christianity was introduced to the pagan Celts.  Which may explain why many of us refer to Guinness Stout as:  Mothers Milk.  But that is a story for another time.

____________________________________________________________________________

*That's what's so cool about the blog.  Come for the occasional politics and opinion; stay for the arcane....

The Bitter End

The 18th Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified on January 16, 1919 and went into effect on January 17, 1920.  This amendment prohibited the production, sale and transportation of alcohol in the United State.  This dry spell lasted from 1920 to 1933.

Naturally, prohibition didn't sit well with Wisconsinites and it was a clever tavern owner from the peninsula who found a legal work-around that kept him in business throughout the prohibition years right up to modern times.

Tom Nelsen operated Nelsen's Hall, a dance hall and saloon on remote Washington Island, thinly populated by people who referred to themselves as islanders.  Isolated from the mainland it was a terrific location for a scofflaw.   

Nelsen recalled seeing bitters for sale at a local drug store in Sturgeon Bay.  Bitters are a 90-Proof beverage.  During the prohibition years a doctor could prescribe the dispensing of alcohol for the treatment of various medical disorders.

It was a German physician, Johann Siegert, who would become a pioneer in the bitters industry.  Dr. Siegert lived with his family in the town of Angostura, Venezuela having moved from Germany in 1820 to serve as the Surgeon General of the Armies of Simón Bolívar. By 1824 he perfected the formula for Amargo Aromatico used in his medical practice as a medical elixir for the troops.  Angostura Bitters were born and eventually branched-out to the mixology surrounding the consumption of adult beverages.

Firm in the knowledge that 90-Proof bitters were used to treat digestive disorders the enterprising Nelsen applied-for, and received, a pharmacist license for purposes of dispensing medicinal alcohol.  He prescribed shots of bitters to his regulars and was able to keep the doors of his watering hole open.  Unfortunately, even very distant Washington Island eventually drew the attention of federal agents who charged him with violating the Volstead Act.

At the County Seat in Sturgeon Bay, the state made what they considered to be a straightforward case that Nelsen was selling alcoholic beverages and operating a speakeasy.  As the story goes Nelsen, testifying in his own defense, claimed that bitters were medicinal and could be purchased at any pharmacy.  Arguing that the taste was so foul the concoction couldn't possibly be anything but medicine he invited the judge to take a sip.  Recoiling from the taste the judge ruled in favor of Nelsen agreeing that no beverage served in a bar could taste so bad.

Consequently, Nelsen continued to legally serve his island customers their bitters and remained in business until prohibition was subsequently repealed making Nelsen's Hall the oldest legally continuously-operated tavern in Wisconsin.  Reputedly, Tom Nelsen consumed a pint of bitters a day (16 shots) until he passed at age 90.

Nowadays, Nelsen's Hall and Bitters Club is the world's largest purveyor of Angostura Bitters.  The pub sells 1.5-oz. shots of bitters - more than 10,000 shots a year.  Enjoy a shot and you are inducted into the club and receive an official membership card. 

Located at W19 N1205 Main Road, Washington Island, WI 54246 - at the very end of the peninsula.

Story, historic photos and more about this here. 

 

 

Nelsen's Hall Bitter Pub Review Washington Island, WI  6-15-24

You Are What You Eat

Dinner yesterday featured all-organic, locally-sourced, charcoal-grilled and hand-carved venison.  Rare to medium-rare.

Home fried taters and mixed veggies on the side.

Today is Packer Game Day. 

If I had to hazard a guess there will be leftover venison on sourdough rolls with Düsseldorf mustard.

Frosty Canadian Lagers too........

Rib Fest

Lake, cousins, food, adult beverages, yuks. 

Another annual Rib Fest has come and gone; and thinking about it I hate to admit that I've sorta lost track of how many there have been.

No dogs this year, but there was plenty of terrific food (including ribs) and wake-boarding, jet-skiing, swimming, cruising, adult beverages, hot-tubbing, family stories, yuks and family.

 

As a consequence of the the family's growing numbers three years-ago we ditched the supper club Friday fish fry and I assumed responsibility for the experience to be held at home.

There were two kinds of fries, beer-battered onion rings, homemade coleslaw, tartar sauce, deli rye and of course, fresh water yellow perch.  Almost five dozen fillets all-told.  Once the oil is up to temperature everything comes-together in about 30 minutes (give or take).  Brandy Old-Fashioneds were involved too.

Yummy chow if you can get it.

Saturday featured more aquatic events, fishing from the pier, hanging out on the patio, More food  and the pièce de résistance:  food on a stick, ribs, sides and desserts.  

 Ohhh man. 

Our parents were the first generation to host summer gatherings like this.  Us cousins are the second generation to continue the tradition.  And it now includes the third and fourth generations.  And, by the way, we've raised the bar and amped-up our game.

Family.  
Channeling Robert Earl Keen - The road goes on forever and the party never ends.... 

 

2024 Door County Maritime Museum Classic and Wooden Boat Festival - Part I

This last weekend brought the return of the Door County Maritime Museum Classic and Wooden Boat Show.  Thirty-Three Years Running!

We had out-of town guests and made a weekend of it.  While the weather was hot and sunny there was a cooling lake breeze and refreshing food and adult beverages to be found both at the show and at Kitty O'Reilly's and Water Front Mary's .  There was even some single malt whiskey to sip in the evenings before bedtime.

Here are some pics of the classics.

Be sure to return this afternoon for pics of the Sikaflex Challenge Cup Boat Race....