One of the first jobs on a brewing day around here (after putting the heater on in the office) is to run some cold water so we can check the mains temperature. Imagine our horror when a few chilly drops was all we got. As it turns out, the mains isn't frozen (don't believe your water company when they tell you that it never happens - on this industrial estate mains water is now down to 2.8°C - a few more weeks of this weather and it will be frozen, probably on a monday morning).
It took the best part of an hour clambering about exploring to discover that a short length of pipe running against one of the big bits of steelwork has frozen.
So, we remove that section of pipe and soak it in a bucket drawn from the Hot Liquor Tank. And then, when thawed, put it back. Bingo, we have running water, and can make a late start on the brewing. It's cold. The malt is cold. The fridge is just a box with a light in. We've got two heaters in the (cool) store.
I shouldn't complain, but it's 3:30 and we're not even boiling yet, so I'll be home later than I wanted, and I've got a cold, and Becky's got the car so I'll have to try to get home in the van (or near home what with the ice). Grumble groan.
Heads in the sand: Most of us would prefer not to know whether bad things are going to happen - Many of us would rather not know about the future because we fear we'll regret hearing what's to come. By Alex Fradera
8 hours ago