For One Brief Moment, It Was Glorious

Out back, stretched between two trees in a sunny spot, I have a hammock. All winter long I've been dreaming about the first sunny day that I could lie about with a beer and do nothing. Today that day was today. For an hour I lay out there with a beer in my hand, an empty head and a song in my heart, blissful in my serene peace. Then I got up to take a leak. When I went back to resume hammocking the treacherous machination gave way and dropped me and my hapless beer to the ground. I am remarkably unharmed. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the Samual Adams Boston Lager which shared my journey to the ground. The hammock, much like my beer and my dream, is a total loss.

Off to the Hammock District I go!