retiredmartin

March 2026. Sheffield.

Back home (they’ll be thinking of us) I managed a day’s housework before succumbing to the lure of Kelham on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. Oh well, the KIT, then.

Earlier this month I treated our 2 Chicago visitors to practically perfect beer (NBSS 5) in the Tavern.

“At this stage you’re basically drinking condition” I rather gushingly told Dave, the way a cricket enthusiast would describe a Tavare leave to someone with no interest in the sport.

The only downside that Sunday was being confined to the lesser conservatory BECAUSE NO-ONE MADE A DASH FOR THE TABLES.

Everyone knows beer tastes better when you’re sitting with your back on the bench in the bar, staring at pub life.

Actually, this was (only) a 4.5, perhaps just too intense.

Will, who may have drunk all 87 iterations of the local Blue Bee 5 Hop series will have a posh word for “intense”.

I got up to give my table to a lady  I recognised as regular. She was SO grateful SHE wouldn’t be relegated to the Hieronymous Bosch.