Warehouses: Where it’s at

A week or so ago, my husband and I managed to float the same Friday off work and traveled to Portland, Maine, for a beer and yarn spree. Tess’ Designer Yarns was the first stop.

I won’t focus too much on the yarn in this post, other than to say that it is just so pleasant to browse these luxurious yarns in the quiet atmosphere of the shop, in contrast with the crowded, rushed feeling of a festival. (No doubt my purchases will be featured in later posts). Tess is located in downtown Portland on the second floor, where I imagine she pays much lower rent than a sidewalk-level shop would cost.

Speaking of costs, parking lots in Portland are five dollars an hour, hotel room prices are comparable to those in Chicago, and while I’m sure there are still hipster eateries, we stumbled into having lunch at an upscale French bistro, Petite Jacqueline. I enjoyed it very much, but it would seem downtown Portland is a different city than the Portland I met back in 2010 — and I know if I had more history with the city, the changes would be even more dramatic.

Before our parking bill grew any larger, we got back in the car and drove west on our quest for delicious beer.

Bissell Brothers was the first brewstop. Located in the Thompson’s Point development, the parking is pricey here too, but this is one of the latest trendy breweries everyone wants to visit. I honestly can’t say I was blown away by the beers - they weren’t my style and I’ll admit I wasn’t entirely caught up in the mood. Other blogs do this brewery more justice than I can.

It was our next stop, Bissell Brothers’ original location, that really struck me, and got me thinking. Located just off I-95 on Industrial Way, three breweries and a distillery occupy a warehouse near the western boundary of the city. On this Friday afternoon, cars filled (free) parking lots and lined both sides of the road. We snagged a parallel spot next to the warehouse (I just love showing off my parallel parking skills) and set out to explore. Austin Street Brewery, Battery Steele Brewing, and Foundation Brewing Company are all in one large building. The long-established Allagash Brewing Company is across the street, and Maine’s first microbrewery, D.L. Geary Brewing Co., is right up the road.

Flight of beer at Allagash.

In this warehouse environment we found friendly people of all ages, friendly dogs, friendly babies, and lots of tasty beer. Each tasting room was open to the warm afternoon, and featured roped-off outdoor seating, with the exception of Battery Steele, which is temporarily closed after selling all their beer. After tasting and purchasing from Foundation and Austin Street, we crossed over to Allagash, where their impressive distribution and market share affords them the ability to offer a free flight to every guest. The atmosphere reminded me of our favorite breweries at home: Great North Aleworks, located in Manchester, NH in a warehouse next to a giant Bingo hall, and our trifecta of the Londonderry and Derry town line in New Hampshire: Rockingham Brewing Company, From the Barrel, and Kelsen Brewing Company. While not in such close quarters as these Portland breweries, the trifecta are located close enough to each other to make it fun to carpool from one to another on a Saturday afternoon — and while they are not all technically located in warehouses, their locations are decidedly industrial.

As small breweries need cheap real estate (and proper drainage, as explained to us by the Foundation barista), and local micro and nano breweries continue to be popular, these industrial back roads are now the trendy spots. I’m sure no one is more surprised by this than the Bingo players in Manchester, who find their sprawling parking lot is suddenly smaller in size.

A sense of self

I haven’t been the happiest person of late. A lot of this can be blamed on the simple truth of lack of sleep, or possibly the continued interruption of my body’s natural circadian rhythms (getting up an hour earlier for my not-new-anymore job continues to throw off my balance). But being unhappy also throws me into a state of self-analysis: if I’m not happy, then, what does make me happy? What helps me feel satisfied with life?

It’s fun to think about these things, but what’s even better is to act on them. This weekend (which I made a three-day weekend because I could, and because I was kind of sick on Saturday anyway) I am making an effort to experience all of these good things, listed here in no particular order.



While making this list, I realize that making lists should be on the list. It is tremendously satisfying. Making a list generates order out of chaos. It relaxes my mind and makes the insurmountable suddenly doable.



Being outdoors. The absolute best day of my recent vacation with my husband was spent on a bicycle ride. 
I also really enjoy hiking (most folks know this) but I haven’t done any hiking this year at all. Part of this is weather, allergies, and poor planning. Part of it is honestly not wanting to drive to a mountain when I already spend so many hours in the car each week. But I don’t have to go that far. Today I will drive 20 minutes to a small hill outside of town, and get a hike in.



Cooking good things definitely belongs on the list. For me, that means using local foods when I can, chopping and dicing and transforming them into healthy meals. Recipes usually come from EatingWell or Cooking Light. (Minor segue: Cooking Light, I think, saved my life. I am so grateful to have discovered it when I was 24, still naturally thin, and genuinely interested in how to eat healthfully. Now that I am 41 and gain weight at the drop of a hat, I am putting the lessons I learned to good use).

Today I will make this week’s yogurt. I will also make a tried-and-true Chopped Greek Salad with Chicken for dinner, and prep what I need for Crispy Vegetable Quesadillas so I can make those tomorrow night.





Knitting and watching old movies are also on the list. Fortunately, these things can sometimes be done simultaneously. Today, I will begin working on the right-hand Junie Marie Mitts. These are a gift as part of a birthday swap, so I won't show a photo of mine yet. I am so freaking happy with myself -- I knit the first mitten in two days. Two days! The first pair I ever made took more like six months - I had no idea what I was doing. So this is pretty awesome. I kind of got in a knitting rut this summer, but these mitts are getting me out of it. This is a good thing.

For a movie... I do not know. Romances of the 1930s or 1940s? Or sci-fi of the 1950s? The Day the Earth Stood Still is still on Netflix. Or, perhaps a re-watch of Double Indemnity? That's a great one. I'll have to see what is available. I enjoy them all.

I also need to do my laundry. Not because I enjoy doing laundry, but because it's on a mental must-do list. And the best part of making a list is crossing things off the list.

When will it be too late?

For most of my life, I've enjoyed crafts such as cooking, and more recently, knitting, although I've also dabbled in other things (in high school, ceramics; under my bed, a freeform miniature quilt in progress). I love the challenge of cooking fresh and delicious things, and when the Brookford Farm CSA starts up again in a few weeks, the push will once again be ON to figure out how to eat all those greens.

I learned how to make yogurt this weekend. This particular DIY project expresses exactly why I enjoy these things: the finished product will be tasty, I will know what I put in it, and it actually cost less for me to make it myself. (Obviously knitting doesn't pass that test, but the uniqueness of each object makes up for this!)

But, for the past couple of days I've struggled to enjoy the fruits of my labors. Last Saturday night, my husband and I were out of town, enjoying an evening of delicious food and beer after a day-long cheesemaking workshop (hence the inspiration to make my own yogurt). We had just received our entrees, and so we were rather quiet, focused on our food, and could hear the table behind us very clearly having an outspoken conversation about the U.S. presidential election. We were in Northampton, Mass., where it's perfectly normal for white people to have dreadlocks, so their conversation slanted pretty left, and was mostly focused on Hillary vs. Bernie.

Their conversation resulted in a conversation with my husband about the spectre that is Donald Trump. How can so many people seriously consider, even champion, a man who clearly thrives on hate? As my husband said, everyone has to have someone to put down - all of us feel a little better about ourselves when we know there is someone below us to step on. I know that. He knows that. We know this is simply a human trait, one to be recognized and dealt with in a mature way. To do otherwise would be to invite the sort of hatred Trump is spreading. It sickens me to think there are so many Americans who aren't self-aware enough to realize how Trump manipulates them into this kind of hate. I want to throw up when I recall his nasty, schoolground behavior at one of his recent rallies, from a clip I happened to catch on the national news. "Oh, go home to Mommy," he sneered at a protester, before complaining that there are no adverse consequences for protesters any more. Is he insinuating that someone with an opposing point of view should face consequences?

Seriously? This is what we want for our President? This is who we think should represent our people and our ideals? (In contrast, this is how George H. W. Bush handled a protester. Listen to Act Two).

I got up to go to the restroom, and heard for the first time the ambient music playing in the restaurant - a fabulous, 1940s-era big band swing sort of sound, a sound popular when another leader of a first-world country was denouncing large groups of people for the religion and heritage they happened to be born with. I imagine that in the early days, most of the German people went about their daily lives while knowing something wasn't quite right with their leadership. And when it was too late -- it was too late.

When will we realize it is too late for us?
And what is the point of crafting at times like these?