A friend gave me a bottle of homebrew porter, a beer, along with these instructions:
If you want to drink @ room temp. be careful upon opening so you don't lose any.
Alas, I was too busy wondering about porter and trespassers w to be properly careful. After I cleaned up the little mess, I found the porter to taste sort of like A and W Root Beer. This reminded me of the time Judy Anderson brought root beer lifesavers for Blue Bird treats when we went on a field trip to Lincoln General Hospital in second grade, except that they weren't really Lifesavers, but some different brand, but we each got a whole roll to eat in the station wagon. And before I could say "trespassers w" the porter was consumed without making much impression on my tastebuds.
I can remember useless information about Blue Bird meetings better than I can remember my own name sometimes. I grew up under the name of Porter. The door knocker on our blue front door had P O R T E R engraved on it. We were the only family in the neighborhood with a door knocker, a point of some pride. The Porter family was the original owner of the house. Although, of course, a bank owned the house and the Porters just lived there. Much as I argued for having a new knocker with our name engraved on it, my parents just left us living under the name of Porter. Since my family owned the house for fifty-two years, I still believe a new door knocker could have been justified.
My sister painted this picture. See the gold door knocker?
It is Owl who has the door knocker* in the 100 Aker Wood, but Piglet who lives under the name Trespassers w. This is useful information, so I had to look it up, along with the not-Lifesavers root beer candy which was made by Reed's.
Without crossword puzzles, I would remember nothing about beer, other than to pick some up after a rough day at work. The crossword spaces are usually for three, five, or seven letters:
As a non-native Texan, I know Shiner Bock. Now with porter, I'm set for four and six letter beer clues.
* Owl also has a bell-pull that is really Eeyore's tail, so PLES RING IF AN RNSER IS REQUIRD. I saw Eeyore, the tailless squirrel, down by the creek twice during our ice storm. My Eeyore father is a little happier today, and I should probably take him some root beer.
© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder