A couple of weeks ago I shared a photo of a political sign on our street. On the next street over there are a few outspoken neighbors. This van was parked out front of the house across the street from the one with all the Lake Ontario signs and Canadian flags. I’m happy to report we have been up to the lake a few times since the name change, and it doesn’t look any different.
Scott and Margaret invited us to their annual Oktoberfest party. Scott was boiling round German pretzels in a big pot when we got there, and he was drinking a Labatt Blue. We mingled with our tiny plastic beer mugs, stopping at the four tasting stations to sample ten of twenty-eight seasonal offerings.
Although Scott told us no one was keeping score, we kept track of what we liked on scorecards that Margaret had printed out. Our favorites were an Ayinger, the local offering from Rohrbach, the Sierra Nevada, something from Tree House, and our favorite, the Ommegang.
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